


Put My Trust In You

by Nonsensewords85



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Angst with a Happy Ending, Creampie, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Femdom, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Shower Sex, Snowballing, cum kisses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2019-09-06 09:06:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16829467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonsensewords85/pseuds/Nonsensewords85
Summary: After the honor council meeting Josie goes to find her sister and finds something unexpected. Takes place after 1x05.





	1. Chapter 1: In the End

**Author's Note:**

> After watching Penelope's rant I came up with this. Unlike some of my other works I think this will be updated in short chapters.

Chapter 1: In the End

The tears won’t stop coming. They’re a flood. She can no longer see, think or hear. Her entire world is just the wetness streaming down her face and a pair of warm arms holding her. She’s not even entirely sure whose arms they are. Just that they don’t belong to her sister. Or Rafael. Because right now in the gym, Lizzie’s arms are wrapped around his back and his arms are holding him up while he drives himself into her in an unrelenting pace. Josie knows that it’s too rough and Lizzie is in pain. She can feel it. Like a stabbing in her pussy. But she also knows it’s what Lizzie wants. That her sister wants the physical sensations to match the rage pooling inside. Josie has never hated their bond so much. 

She’d known that there was a possibility she’d be forced to feel Lizzie’s first time; Lizzie had bitched about having to feel Josie’s with Penelope after all. She just never imagined it would be like this. Rough, painful and desperate with a man Josie had been falling for. A man she’d shared a kiss with. Her fist kiss since Penelope had ripped her heart out and stomped on it.

And the only person Josie could blame for all of this was herself. She was the one who had remained silent every time Lizzie had expressed an interest in Rafael. She was the one who’d kept the kisses she’d shared with Rafael a secret. And she was the one who had tossed Landon out and driven Rafael into her sister’s arms. But it still hurt. So much. Especially seeing them together, fucking on the floor of the gym.

Josie had gone there in search of her sister after the council meeting. She hadn’t really wanted to. But after breaking Lizzie’s promise to Rafael, Josie owed her twin the truth. Especially as it meant that Rafael would likely fail to follow through on his promise to go with Lizzie to the party. And afterwards Josie was ready to give as many apologies as it took to get the blonde to forgive her for usurping the honor council position. She’d been prepared for Lizzie to rage at her; to vent some of the anger the blonde had been trying to excise in the gym at her. She’d been prepared for anything that came out of Lizzie’s mouth. Or so she thought.

She’d been mere feet away from the gym’s entrance when the stabbing pains started. In a panic she’d rushed forward, worried for Lizzie’s safety. But though Lizzie was in pain it wasn’t from any source Josie had predicted. When she’d burst into the gym Josie was shocked to find Rafael on top of her sister. His thick cock was splitting Lizzie’s tight pussy lips apart. He was moving with a mesmerizingly brutal pace.

Then she heard Lizzie screaming. With her mind addled by the pain and panic surging through her Josie had started drawing upon the power of the school to force him off of Lizzie. Rage coursed through her. How dare he hurt her sister. Just because she dared to do what was right.

And then Lizzie shattered her righteous fury. It took a second but the blonde’s next words finally broke into Josie’s conscious mind, with the force of a freight train. Lizzie had begged him to continue. To fuck her harder. And then Lizzie had screamed his name again.

And then Josie noticed all the details: that Raf’s long thick cock glistened with more than just Lizzie’s virginal blood; that Lizzie’s hands were trying to pull him tighter to her, one on his back and the other was pulling his head deeper into the crook of her neck; that her legs were wrapped around his and her hips thrust to meet his each time; that Lizzie was moaning and her voice was thick with lust as she egged him on, and that despite the pain Lizzie was approaching an orgasm.

And with that Josie accepted the reality before her. Lizzie had gotten what she wanted. Again. And Josie was left to deal with all of the fallout. Again.

It was too much. And so Josie fled. She’d burst across the threshold of the gym and ran down the corridors desperate to be away. Tears had started to fall down her face. And she hadn’t been looking where she was going. So of course she collided with someone and ended up sprawled on the floor. It was the last straw and she’d dissolved into a mess of tears. At some point the victim of the collision had decided to comfort her. And so Josie found herself on the ground, crying with someone’s arms wrapped around her.

She knows she owes this person an apology, and that she needs to pull herself together and stand up. Lizzie wouldn’t want the world to know what she was doing. And Josie couldn’t bear to harm her sister in that way. So Josie can’t explain. So her only choice is to get her emotions under control and retreat back to her room before dissolving back into a mess.

But she can’t. The tears won’t stop. There’s a jagged, raw feeling in her chest even worse than the phantom pain coming through her bond with her sister and she just can’t seem to ignore it. And so she sobs out in the hall where anyone can find her.

Her chest heaves and the she knows her makeup is ruined. She knows she’s an ugly crier, Lizzie has told her numerous times. She’s sure her face is contorted into some hideous effigy of herself.

She’s vaguely aware of the arms wrapped around her shifting. And then she feels a hand tracing gentle circles into her back. And a voice murmuring over her. She can’t place it but it’s familiar. And something about it is soothing. She can’t help herself. She needs this.

And so she spins on the floor so that she is facing the other person and tunnels further into the warm embrace. She’s crying into the other person’s lap and is probably crushing the life of whoever it is. But Josie just can’t care.

She loses all track of time as she lays there; trying to excise the sorrow that has infested her like a sickness. She knows that this is bad. That it makes her an awful person. She should be ecstatic for Lizzie. Lizzie for all of her wonderful virtues was terrible with other people. They just didn’t understand how great Lizzie’s determination and strength was. They only saw an arrogant bitch looking to control them. But Josie knew different. Josie knew that her sister was courageous and brave. She knew that Lizzie would stop at nothing to save anyone. The blonde had proven that with the gargoyle. And the spider-monster.

Josie knows that Rafael had fallen into the same trap. That despite Lizzie’s best attempts the handsome young werewolf had seen Lizzie as nothing more than a privileged vapid slut who wanted to use him to fulfill some fantasy of slumming it.

So Josie knows she should be happy that Rafael had come to his senses and realized how great Lizzie was. But she couldn’t be. Because for a moment she had thought that she’d found someone who could really love her. The way that Penelope couldn’t. The way that even Lizzie couldn’t. Someone who could see her and want her.

She’d first felt that spark of hope when she’d first talked to him alone, after Lizzie’s disastrous introduction. He’d seemed interested in talking with her. And yeah, okay he’d ended up asking her to do him a favor, but she was happy to help. She was always happy to help. So she’d summoned the boy who was like his brother. And then she’d thought that their connection had grown when she’d helped him navigate the pack dynamics that bound the werewolves in the school. And then she’d kissed him. Yes to save their lives but still it had curled her toes and stolen her breath and in that moment she’d been positive he could see her. But it was all a delusion.

Of course he’d found his way to Lizzie. The blonde was everything Josie could never be. Assertive. Powerful. Confident. That was what set Lizzie apart. That was why Lizzie should be representing the witches and not Josie. Josie hadn’t been strong enough to stand up for Landon. Her fears for the safety of the school and those she loved inside its walls had forced her to disappoint Rafael. Lizzie would have found a way to make it work; to salvage her growing relationship with Rafael and keep the school safe.

But Josie couldn’t. In the end Josie would always make the hard choice. She’d let Penelope go to focus on taking care of her twin sister. She’d sacrifice her time and possessions to make sure Lizzie realized her desire of representing the witches on the stupid honor council their dad had put together to mollify them. She’d kept quiet about her feelings so Lizzie wouldn’t need to feel guilty for pursuing Rafael. And in the end none of it would ever matter. She was always going to be alone.

And so she cries.

The soft murmurs and light touches increase as time wears on. And despite herself Josie feels them soothing her. Slowly the motions of her chest slow and the knot that had formed there loosened. A soft hand brushes the residual tears from her face. It was a pleasant surprise that the tears had stopped and she slowly could feel her mind return. She took stock of her body.

Exhaustion takes the place of sadness and Josie finds that she can’t move yet. But the person whose lap she was using as a pillow has yet to complain so she simply lays there. The touches do not stop. Josie does not want them to stop. But she can’t escape the feeling of familiarity. Something about them is so familiar that she’d swear that she’d felt them before. But that couldn’t be. She’s sure Lizzie is still on the floor of the gym, being pounded into a blissful unconsciousness by the boy they both had a crush on. Their father is out somewhere dealing with the mystery of the knife and the only other person who had touched her this way…

A cold dread tries to form in the pit of her stomach, but it can’t seem to find any purchase. She’s too exhausted to worry about what this means. She simply settles further and allows the touches to continue. Now that she’s pretty sure she knows who’s holding her she finds her brain interpreting the soft murmurs easier. Which only confirms what she knows to be true.

She knows that she’ll pay for this later. That her mind will demand answers and she will receive none and her brain will conjure up scenario after scenario: it’s a twisted game; she really does care; Josie just looked that pathetic. Each possibility is going to torture her. Which is probably the point.

But for now Josie allows herself the pleasure of the touch. She relaxes into it and the strokes firm up. A warmth slowly spreads through Josie. Her pulse starts to speed up again. Her body remembers the touches. And what they always led to.

The memories fill her with strength. Strength enough to lift her head and look into Penelope’s eyes. Strength enough to lean forward and close the distance between them. She feels a sense of power at the look of surprise that flits over Penelope’s face. A smug sense of satisfaction drifts over her as Penelope’s mind clearly races, trying to decide how to proceed. Josie can’t remember the last time she’d managed to surprise the other girl. And before she can second guess herself Josie makes her move.

Their lips press together in a kiss and for a moment Josie feels the kind of pleasure her sister is experiencing in the gym. And then she notices that Penelope’s lips are still. And that her ex is leaning back, away from her. Oh G-d. She misread the situation and is making a fool out of herself. Her eyes close and shame races through her. She’s about to spiral again, but Penelope saves her. Again.

Penelope’s lips move and one of her hands tangles in Josie’s hair and pulls her close. Josie loses control at the start of the kiss and a soft moan escapes. The embarrassment of being so easy to please never manifests and she loses herself in the kiss. Which ends too soon.

When Penelope pulls back. Josie is panting. Her head is swimming and her eyes are dilated. She’s yearning for more. Her nipples have hardened against the cloth of her bra. And she wouldn’t be surprised to find her panties stained. She knows she has a stunned expression on her face. Penelope smiles at her and leans forward again. But their lips don’t meet. They stop just short. Their foreheads are pressed together and just a sliver of space separates their lips. Josie is positive she’s smiling.

“Was just surprised,” Penelope mutters.

“Ok.” It was the only thing she could think to say.

“Let’s get out of here,” Penelope whispers. Josie’s silence is clearly not what Penelope wants because she leans down and nips gently at the skin of Josie’s neck. Penelope knows that she can’t resist it. “You won’t regret it. Trust me.”

And G-d help Josie but she does.


	2. It Doesn’t Even Matter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter. This one came pretty quickly. Next one is shaping up to be longer so it'll be a bit. This chapter is with Lizzie. So far I think I'll be shifting perspectives each chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Lizzie didn’t even try to hold back her screams. If there was a reason to keep quiet she couldn’t currently bring herself to give a fuck. Not when she was getting fucked.

She had been worried the first time would hurt. Josie’s had. Which unfortunately Lizzie was well aware of. She’d been forced to experience the sensation of the bitch who must not be named’s fingers stretching her sister’s virgin channel through their awkward twin link. And Rafael was much bigger than that bitch’s fingers. So much bigger and thicker and it was fucking wonderful.

And yes it had hurt when he’d slammed forward into her. She hadn’t asked him to go slow and he probably assumed that she was well versed at being on her back and taking dick given the way she’d been throwing herself at him. She wasn’t. As aggressive as she could be she was equally picky. And the few times she’d tried to pick up a guy, she’d struck out hard. Like she had with Rafael at first. She put her foot in her damn mouth and everything went to shit. Which is why this time she just acted.

And it had worked. Rafael had kissed her hard and then worked with her to strip off their remaining clothes. And then, when they were both finally naked she’d grabbed his hard cock and pulled it to her entrance. He’d kissed her and surged forward. It had hurt so fucking bad. The thick crown had slammed into her lips, crushing them and then forcing them apart. Her channel was forced open and while she was wet as hell, she still wasn’t used to stretching. He surged forward and deep into her. Her hymen had ripped open and she was sure his cock was bloody. The pain was intense.

And fucking wonderful. It felt so G-ddamn good. She had never realized pain could feel that way. Invigorating and pleasurable and so all consuming that nothing else could touch her. She was in the moment. Her racing thoughts and surging emotions were quieted and her entire world because the twin sensations of pleasure and pain mixing inside her.

She loved it. And him for giving it to her. She screamed his name, begged him for more and clawed at his naked back. She would do anything to keep it going. And boy did he deliver.

He thrust into her with a steady rhythm. His cock reached so deliciously deep inside her with every thrust. Her wet channel squeezed and gripped his cock. She was sure it must be blissful for him. How could it not be. She was hot and tight and fucking awesome. And okay she knew she wasn’t the girl he loved, but she could be. So he had to be enjoying this.

His face was clenched and his breath came in a steady stream of pants. Sweat was gleaming on his skin and she was enjoying the way it accentuated the strong muscles of his chest. Each thrust showed off his abs, which looked more like sculpted stone than flesh.

The next thrust caused her to peak. She screamed again as her body went out of control. Her legs thrashed and her back left the mat she was laying on. Her mouth opened and her entire face became a rictus of pleasure. Her entire body clenched and somehow, impossibly, it wasn’t enough to satisfy Rafael. He kept going inside her.

He continued to thrust through her entire orgasm, not slowing or stopping. The only acknowledgement he gave was to tip her head so that he could kiss her softly throughout it while he continued to pound into her tight hole.

“Let me know if it’s too much,” he grunted after the aftershocks faded.

She shook her head in rejection of the offer. She wasn’t going to stop just because she came. She was going to prove to him, and herself, that she could be better for him than his dead girlfriend. And that meant taking him better than anyone else. So she ignored the exhaustion and fatigue gripping her limbs and the burning in her pussy and thrust up against his hips and gripped him as tightly as she could.

“Keep going,” she told him. “Fuck me till you cum in my tight white pussy.”

“Let’s not bring up the race thing,” he grunted back. “It’s not a thing for me.”

Shame flushed her cheeks. Again she was sticking her foot in it. His eyes were boring into her and she wondered what he was thinking.

“Is it a thing for you? I could…”

Oh no. Now he thought she was some racist idiot who only wanted him because of a stereotype about his cock size.

“No. I mean I’m not sure what’s a thing for me. Just fuck me,” she begged, her head dropping away and breaking eye contact with him. His firm fingers gripped her chin and brought her eyes back to his.

“Lizzie,” he said. “I’m not trying to shame you. I mean I want this to be good for you too.”

She moans and it’s entirely unforced, though his skeptical look suggests he thinks she’s trying to placate him. But she can’t help it. He’s hot, his cock hurts and feels good and the shame coursing through her at this conversation is doing something to her. She’s wetter than she’s ever been. But she has to say something otherwise he might stop.

“Keep fucking me,” she blurted out. “Hard as you can. I think… I think I like it hard.”

“You think you like it hard?” he questioned. “What none of your little boys give it to you hard before?”

Something about his tone sets her off. She still doesn’t want to stop, but definitely wants to put him in his place.

“I’m a virgin you ass,” she chided. “So you’re setting the standard. Don’t fuck it up.”

For a second she was sure she fucked up as he stilled inside her. His eyes raked her face and she was positive she had ruined it. He was gonna pull out and never speak to her again. She’d told him not to think and she’d gone and made him think. He had to be freaking out at what this meant to her.

“And you wanted it this hard,” he asked.

“Yes,” she whined. “Please keep fucking me.”

“It doesn’t hurt? I’m not exactly small. And we didn’t prep you at all.”

The question is equal parts frustrating and heartwarming. This is just supposed to be no thoughts sex and here he was worrying about her. But he was also ruining the moment and forcing her to think and feel the awful sensations the day had caused in her. And he was denying her more pleasure.

“Rafael, stop over thinking it and fuck the shit out of me,” she cried. Finally, he took pity on her and began moving again. But at a much slower pace and much, much softer. Too much so. She groaned in frustration and made the snap decision to tell him the truth.

“Fine, yes it hurts and it’s fucking incredible. I’m fucked up and I liked it and I need it, so just please,” she begged.

She regretted it immediately. He didn’t respond. His eyes felt like steel weights on her soul. His body stilled in hers and she was sure she’d ruined everything again. He took a deep breathe, likely in preparation for telling her he was done and this was a mistake. The shame and anger and every other emotion she’d been trying to suppress started to come back.

And then he surprised her. He whispered in her ear, but the words didn’t make sense. If what was too much? And why was he talking about avocados?

And then he surged forward, even harder than before. Her body erupted in pain and under it, a current of pleasure she had thought lost. Her mind cleared again and suddenly it made sense. He was giving her what she needed. And apparently he had been holding out on her because he quickly reached a pace and speed she didn’t think possible.

Every thrust forward rocked her body from head to toe. She was drilled deep into the mat. The rhythm was so fast that she didn’t have a second to get used to it. It was just thrust after thrust. Her body tried to adapt, to cradle and massage the thick intruder. But it just couldn’t. And so every stab hurt oh so wonderfully. She certainly didn’t need the safe word he’d offered her.

She’d never felt quite this good. Her own fingers had nothing on his cock. She was pretty fantastic at getting herself off. But not like him. His thrusting cock drove her over the edge again and again. Her entire world became one rolling continuous orgasm and still he didn’t stop.

She lost track of how many orgasms ripped through her. She couldn’t even tell when they ended and the buildup to the next began. There was just overwhelming pleasure. Her crotch was a sodden mess. The thin, trimmed pubic hair was completely matted with her own juices. And then it got even better.

One of his hands reached between them, and despite the blistering pace, he began to manipulate her clit. It was too much. Her body seized again and she could feel a flood of wetness surge from her as her mind disappeared into a pleasant oblivion. When she came back she could feel wetness coating her thighs, and his. Her ass also feels wet. She’s sitting in a pool of her own liquids. She must have squirted all over the mat. That was embarrassing. But it didn’t seem that Rafael noticed or cared. Because he was still pumping into her. Though his thrusts had become erratic and sloppy.

And then his whole body seized and she could feel warm jets of liquid pump into her. She’d made him cum. Inside her. It was fantastic. It also meant that the bliss was over, but she planned to lay there and enjoy for as long as possible.

But of course he wanted to talk.

“Um, I think I came in you. A couple of times,” he admitted sheepishly. “I lost control.”

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect,” she whispered.

“Do you need anything,” he tried to ask. Which sent a surge of panic through her. It was an excuse to leave. Of course he’d want to leave right after. This was just an one time thing. She’d told him not to think and they hadn’t. “Like a pill or do you make potions or like…” he trailed off clearly embarrassed. “I mean if you’re a virgin you probably aren’t on…”

Relief surged through her. She laughed, loud and hard. A smile broke out on her face.

“No, I’m on the pill. I get awful cramps and it helps mitigate them,” she admitted blushing.

“Oh so we don’t need to stop,” he asked. Her eyes scanned his face and then trailed downward. Holy shit he was hard again. He noticed where she was looking and blushed. “Benefits of being a werewolf I guess,” he mumbled. “I seem to recover a lot faster. And I wasn’t a slouch before.”

She thought it over quickly. She was exhausted and her pussy ached. But she was also well lubricated; both from her own juices and his thick hot sperm. And she didn’t want this to end. So she was clearly going to keep going. So she reached down and drew him back into her folds. The stretching hurt, but the pain didn’t matter. The only thing she cared about was having him back inside her. And now her fingers were sticky with the sperm coating his cock. So she lifted them up and licked them clean. She smiled intensely when she saw him staring at her. His cock twitched in her and then his lips claimed hers. His tongue dug around in her mouth and he moaned lightly. He liked the taste of himself apparently. She’d have to keep that in mind.

He started moving again. Slower this time, almost gently. Which wasn’t exactly what she thought she wanted. But in the end it didn’t even matter, so long as he kept moving in her, claiming her and driving away the emotions that Penelope’s words had summoned. And so she lay back and enjoyed his movements, eagerly awaiting his next orgasm. Maybe she could get him to clean her up after. That would be really hot. A gentle peace fell over her as she rested, basking in the sensations and the knowledge that it was her body pleasing him. She’d deal with the bitch who must not be named later. For now, everything was good.


	3. Tried So Hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this scene ended up being a lot longer than I thought it would be. And required a lot more rewriting. Hope you all enjoy.

Penelope’s fingers clawed at the lock of her door. And still the stupid thing remained locked. Normally she’d be embarrassed that she hadn’t gotten it on the first try. But as Josie’s lips crashed against hers she found it nearly impossible to get it open. First she’d missed inserting the key several times. And then when she finally got it in the stupid thing wouldn’t turn. Despite the pleasure turning her brain to mush frustration was beginning to build in her. She just wanted into to her damned room and to have a little privacy. She was seconds away from screaming.

Josie’s lips fell from hers and a glimmer of thought returned to Penelope. She resolved to get it right this time, but slim fingers curled around her hand, causing her thoughts to flee and her breath to hitch. Josie’s fingers tugged at the key, pulling it out a little. Then Josie’s fingers turned and so did Penelope’s. The key turned easily and they were finally able to enter the room.

Josie’s lips found hers again and Penelope stumbled backwards further into the room. It felt amazing. But she should stop this. She had to stop this.

Because as much as she wanted it, Penelope knew this was a bad idea. It wasn’t part of the Plan. If anything it was a moment of weakness that was going to screw up everything. And that was unacceptable. The Plan needed to work.

If Penelope went through with this there would be only two outcomes. Either Josie, after coming to her senses, would be even more furious with Penelope, or this would mark a rekindling of their relationship. Which would be wonderful, but much too soon.

Even if Josie did take her back right now nothing would have changed. Their relationship would be doomed again. Because Lizzie would suck up all of Josie’s attention, energy and potential to feed her own damn ego.

And Penelope was not going to watch that happen to the woman she loved. Josie was better than being permanently relegated to second fiddle so that her less talented and more emotionally damaged sister could shine. So really Penelope should be sticking to the Plan.

But clearly something had gone wrong. Because no part of the Plan had included Josie sobbing in the middle of the hallway and Lizzie revenge fucking Rafael in the gym. Which was just like Lizzie. The selfish bitch never though about anyone else. Penelope had known that antagonizing Lizzie was a risk. But it was a calculated one.

Penelope had spent years observing Lizzie. The blonde twin was predictable in her own way. Lizzie always lashed out. Penelope had expected a temper tantrum and maybe some destroyed property. But it wouldn’t be anything the school hadn’t weathered before. And again Josie would pick up the pieces. But this time Lizzie would know that she was being selfish. And maybe finally Lizzie would be forced to ask Josie what she wanted. But Penelope hadn’t foreseen this outcome.

It had to have been Rafael’s fault. He was the x-factor. Both symptom and solution. Penelope had seen Josie’s reaction to the handsome young werewolf’s arrival. It hurt to see, but Josie was clearly interested in him. And of course, predictably, so was Lizzie. Who had pursued the boy without any thought to her sister’s feelings. Penelope doubted that Lizzie had even noticed Josie was interested.

Penelope had been ready to witness another in the long series of Lizzie stomping all over Josie. But Rafael had upended that. He’d rejected Lizzie and seemed to grow closer to Josie. Most amazingly of all Josie had let him, even knowing her sister wanted him. And yes, it had hurt to watch Josie do for a practical stranger what she could never do for Penelope in resisting her sister’s will.

It had sucked. So fucking much. Penelope cried in her room for an hour after she’d realized Josie had kissed Rafael. Their body language had given it away. Josie was skittish even for her and had been working harder than normal to make Lizzie happy. And Penelope knew her well enough to know she was compensating for something. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess what.

But this wasn’t about Penelope. It was about Josie, and if it took some boy to make her truly happy, then Penelope was going to make sure Josie got him. So, in the end Penelope had gotten her shit together, stood up and decided to do what was necessary to make sure Josie could be happy and have a chance to excel.

And so Penelope had modified the Plan, making sure to include Rafael. And at first it had worked swimmingly. She’d managed to get M on Lizzie’s radar. Which was excellent. Because if Lizzie was in an actual relationship maybe she wouldn’t leech so much of Josie’s time. And while Penelope hated Lizzie, she knew the blonde was what MG truly wanted. And while her plan to feed Lizzie’s ego through a victory in the football game, and thus to associate MG with that positive event, failed, Josie had stepped up and made a decision contrary to her sister’s will so that was a positive.

It had taken a while for another opportunity to appear. Though in the meantime Josie’s bond with Rafael seemed to be growing, which was good. And Josie was becoming more confident as a result. Penelope had even noted her ex actually moving forward with plans to change the curriculum at the school, something Josie had wanted for years. And Josie had stood up to the Pack’s alpha, something she never would have done in the past. 

With those developments in mind, the election had been the perfect opportunity to show Josie her own worth as a leader. Granted the suddenness of it meant Penelope couldn’t be nearly as subtle as she liked. But it was too perfect to pass up. Because Josie was perfect for the role. She was compassionate, thoughtful and would put the collective need above her own desires. Lizzie, on the other hand, would have been a complete disaster. Selfish, inconsiderate and bullheaded. Only what Lizzie wanted would matter and of course instead of avoiding a position that was supposed to be about representing others Lizzie would want the power and prestige of the position.

So Penelope had intervened. She’d campaigned for her ex. Which hadn’t even been difficult. A smile here and there and some conversations where she told only the truth. Josie would be perfect. So they needed to elect her and make sure someone else came in second so Josie couldn’t abdicate and get Lizzie what she wanted unilaterally. The second part was harder to arrange but not by much. Everyone agreed that Josie was perfect. The issue was finding a runner-up so unpalatable to Josie and Lizzie that Lizzie would swallow her wounded pride and let Josie keep the role. In the end it had to be Penelope. Which wasn’t what she wanted. It made it too clear she had arranged the whole thing. But again she did what was necessary.

And it had worked. Josie had won. And by all reports had excelled in the meeting. She’d taken a stand and did what was necessary. Even Kaleb had been impressed. He’d certainly made a point of it when he’d given her a description of the meeting in return for a vial of human blood.

The rest of the details of the meeting had been less positive. Stupid fucking Rafael had ruined what should have been Josie’s moment of triumph. And made Penelope deeply regret thinking she could entrust Josie’s happiness to him. Selfish asshole had challenged the Pack’s Alpha to get himself elected to the council. And then he’d abused the power to try and keep the stupid human thief in the school. Which Penelope hadn’t anticipated.

And of course, Josie had been the tiebreaker. So of course he blamed her. And apparently he was a petty piece of shit because he’d not only told her off but also sought out her sister to hate fuck and drive the message home.

When Josie had crashed into her, Penelope’s first thought had been that Lizzie had lashed out at her twin after Penelope dressed her down. And so she’d left Josie on the floor, crying, anger making her stupid, and entered the gym. She hadn’t anticipated what she found there. She’d had half a mind to blast the two fuckers apart. But that wouldn’t help Josie. So she simply turned around, left the gym, returned to the hall and tried to comfort Josie. Though she had cast a spell to dampen the sound. Josie shouldn’t be forced to listen to it.

And so Penelope had sat on the floor of the corridor outside the gym holding her ex, while once again Lizzie hurt the most wonderful person on the planet. Penelope had felt powerless there, but wasn’t willing to abandon Josie. So she tried to soothe the other woman. With light touches and softly spoken affirmations.

And it worked. Josie calmed down. And then everything went to shit because Josie realized who was holding her. Penelope had been sure Josie would panic again. But the brunette had surprised her by remaining calm. And then Josie had kissed her. Shock had rendered her paralyzed. And of course that had caused Josie to panic. So Penelope got over herself and stepped up, returning the kiss. Which of course she wanted to do. She often dreamed of kissing Josie again. But she wasn’t trying to seduce Josie. But what was she going to do; hurt Josie worse by turning her away and in the process deny herself what she truly wanted? Not even Penelope was that strong. So she’d returned the kiss. And it was a great kiss. She hadn’t wanted it to end. And so she’d kept kissing Josie, on that sensitive spot on her neck and offered to whisk her girl away from it all.

Which led Penelope to the current moment. Where her door slammed shut and she was alone with Josie. They moved steadily towards the bed, lips locked in a savage battle the whole way.

And it was sooo good. Better than her memory and imagination both. She could lose herself in this moment forever.

So it surprised Penelope when she managed to break away and put a little distance between them. She retreated to the safety of the door, resting her back against the closed wooden barrier. Her breaths came in short sharp bursts. Her pulse was racing a mile a minute and she was positive she was blushing something fierce.

Josie’s gaze was on her. It wasn’t a pleasant one either.

“I don’t understand you,” Josie said. “Is this some game? Make me think you want me and then…”

This had all gone wrong. This is why this was a bad idea. Everything was spinning out of control. If she didn’t act soon, Penelope was sure she’d lose Josie forever. She could see that future playing out in front of her eyes. Disgusted, Josie would double down on the status quo, further retreating into Lizzie’s shadow.

No. She had to stop thinking like that. She had to be strong. Do what was best. For Josie. So she remained silent, trying to gather herself together. Figure out what to do. Preferably when her headed wasn’t clouded by the feel of her ex’s soft lips against hers.

Unfortunately Josie read the silence as affirmation. Josie’s face fell further. She sat heavily on the bed and deflated even more. The girl looked wilted. When she spoke her tone was soft, broken.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

The question stole the air from Penelope’s lungs. It was like a gut punch. Or having her clothes spontaneously catch fire again. And now she wanted to cry. But she didn’t have that luxury. She had to be strong. So she should just stand up straight and make something up, send Josie on her way and get back to the Plan. Make Josie see she was strong enough on her own and that she didn’t need to cater to Lizzie’s every need. And that Josie could have her own life.

It was that plan that had made their breakup tolerable. It had given Penelope a purpose. A way to fix what had gone wrong. A way to still take care of Josie even though she was no longer wanted. And if after the Plan had worked Josie had come to her and wanted something more, then maybe it could work. And if Josie never wanted to speak to her again, well at least Josie could be happy.

And this was a pivotal moment Penelope realized. It wasn’t planned. But that was the way life worked. Event influenced event and if you didn’t remain vigilant you missed your opportunity. All she had to do was keep to the Plan. Except her mouth wouldn’t obey.

It had been easier to say the speech she’d prepared in front of a mirror. Or in her mind’s eye. It was a good speech, firm and full of tough love. It would force Josie to step up and be the badass Penelope knew she could be. But Penelope had made a mistake. She’d underestimated just how hard it would be with Josie vulnerable and needy in front of her.

In the end she was too weak. And what came from her mouth wasn’t what she wanted to say. It was the truth, unvarnished and stupid.

“I don’t hate you,” she whispered. Josie was clearly too exhausted to react to the statement. Instead of the vibrant anger Penelope had been expecting Josie just gave a defeated shrug. “I don’t. I’m not trying to hurt you now…”

With Josie looking crushed Penelope reacted without thinking. She closed the distance she’d so carefully put between them and found herself kneeling in front of Josie, trying to get the other girl to look at her.

“I want to. Really. But I don’t want to take advantage,” Penelope pled. Josie needed to see reason, because Penelope knew she didn’t have the strength to resist any longer. “You’re just hurt and lonely. Doing this now would be low even for me.”

Penelope watched Josie carefully in the silence that followed. Self-deprecating humor wasn’t a strength but she had hoped it would deflate some of the tension in the room. But it only built in the silence.

Penelope felt her mouth go dry as Josie’s expression shifted. Josie’s back grew straighter as well. And when she spoke, her voice was still low, but far more confident. It was almost sultry.

“Penelope, I think you’re forgetting. I like it when you go low.”

And then Josie kissed her again. It was a Josie kiss through and through. Soft and hesitant but still insistent. And deliciously slow. Josie’s lips would part and her tongue would slide across Penelope’s lips before retreating back, which made Penelope ache for more. And in a blast from the past, Josie pulled back before Penelope was ready.

When Penelope leaned forward to try and get back those soft lips Josie’s hands curled in her hair and guided her down. Penelope found her lips pressing against Josie’s neck. Taking the hint Penelope sucked at the flesh there. Her tongue flicked out to lavish Josie’s skin. There was a salty taste from Josie’s sweat but Penelope ignored it. Josie’s hitched breathing and soft moans were worth it.

Penelope lost herself in the act of worshiping Josie’s neck. She hadn’t dared dream she’d been allowed to do this again. It was a seemingly simple act, but it drove Josie insane. And so Penelope loved doing it. She kept her attention focused on the spot Josie had guided her to. Her tongue repeatedly danced over the sensitive zones there. She paid extra attention to the join where Josie’s neck transitioned into shoulder and the flat expanse a few inches up, both hotspots for Josie.

As Penelope continued to tease and enjoy Josie’s flesh, a familiar smell reached her nose. It made her mouth water and her own core pulse with need. But she wasn’t going to be selfish. She wanted this to be good for Josie. And Josie needed foreplay. A lot of foreplay, if Penelope was being honest. So despite the proof of Josie’s arousal and the wants of her own selfish body Penelope kept her attention on Josie’s neck. First where Josie had placed her. And then, when Josie let her, she made her way across the flesh to the other side and began to repeat her worship. Though this time she focused on the little spot underneath Josie’s ear that was more sensitive on this side. She even teased the lobe a little.

As Penelope worked, the smell of Josie’s arousal intensified. Penelope couldn’t help but smirk as she noticed her girl start to struggle under the attention. Josie had begun to squirm and her thighs pressed together and rubbed against each other in an attempt to seek some relief. But Josie gave no other sign that she wanted Penelope to move on. Rather, Josie’s hands held Penelope in place even as the moans built and the squirming increased.

It was torture for Penelope. She wanted nothing more than to move lower and strip off the layers hiding Josie’s body so that she could kiss those perfect breasts and hear the pleasure Josie would experience. And then Penelope could finally move to the holy grail. The join of Josie’s thighs contained the ultimate prize. At least for Penelope.

But Josie was stubborn. And despite the fact that the pleasure was clearly becoming physically uncomfortable Josie had yet to ask or indicate in any way that Penelope should move on. It was too much for Penelope to endure. And so she started to beg in-between kisses and licks.

“Please Josie. Please. Let me. I need to taste you.” Those words and others tumbled from Penelope’s mouth. 

Penelope felt Josie’s hands take control again and they moved her head away from Josie’s neck. Josie smiled at the longing look Penelope knew was painted on her face.

“Is that what you really want?” Josie asked. “To put your tongue inside me? To taste me again?”

Penelope groaned with need at Josie’s words. This is what the other girl could do to her. With just a few chosen words Josie could inflame every part of Penelope. And with those same words she could torture as well.

“Yes,” Penelope groaned.

“Like you used to,” Josie questioned. “With me riding your pretty face?" 

“G-d yes,” Penelope managed to squeak out. Her throat was suddenly dry and her face flushed.

“I don’t know,” Josie’s voice was suddenly unsure. Which made Penelope’s heart ache. And then it strengthened as Josie spoke again, slowly in Penelope’s ear. “I haven’t shaved in ages.”

Penelope’s eyes fluttered shut. Her pussy clenched with a desperate need. She could see in her mind’s eye Josie’s thick bush matted with those viscous fragrant fluids Penelope longed to taste again. Josie had to know what she was doing to her.

When Penelope opened her eyes, Josie looked entirely too pleased with herself. But there was nothing Penelope could do. She couldn’t risk ruining this moment. She wasn’t sure what to say. She needed to taste Josie even more. That desperation must have shown in her eyes, because the sly look on Josie’s face only grew stronger as the twin spoke again.

“And I’m feeling pretty gross. I think I’m going to take a shower.”

And then Josie wasn’t by her side. The other teenager had stood up suddenly and began preparing to take a shower. Penelope was a bit of a neat freak and sure enough she hadn’t changed the placement of anything since Josie had last been in her room. So Josie had no trouble gathering the things necessary for the shower and with them in hand Josie made her way to the door leading to the private bathroom.

Penelope was one of the lucky ones when it came to rooms. The old mansion that had been adapted into their school had been updated many times over the years. And one of the updates had included adding private bathrooms for a number of the rooms. Penelope had managed to secure one of those rooms for herself. It had been useful in the past, allowing Josie to clean up before returning to the room she shared with her twin. It seemed this time it worked against Penelope, allowing Josie a place to escape to. And then she heard Josie’s voice coming from the bathroom.

“Aren’t you coming?”

Penelope didn’t waste a second. She scrambled off her knees and tugged off her clothes. She tossed them on the floor. Normally she was cleaner than that, but there was no time to waste.

She found Josie naked and in the small glass shower. Steam obscured the glass, rendering it mostly opaque. She could just make out Josie’s outline. She almost thought it looked like Josie had taken things into her own hands.

Was that the whole point? Now that Penelope was here Josie would show she wasn’t needed and kick her out? If that was to be her punishment Penelope had to admit she deserved it. Steeling herself for that awful possibility Penelope pulled open the door and stepped inside.

Her fears weren’t realized. Josie smiled beautifully at her and beckoned her forward. She stepped under the hot water and into Josie’s embrace. Their lips met again and Josie’s hands roamed over Penelope’s body. They glided up and down Josie’s back, soft and gentle, the way that Josie knows she likes. Penelope gasped into the kiss and was rewarded with a smile from Josie.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming,” Josie whispered into her ear. Penelope blushed and hoped that would be sufficient as a response. But it wasn’t. Josie stopped touching her and waited with her arms slung over Penelope’s shoulders.

“I wasn’t sure you wanted me to,” she whispered back.

“You can be such an idiot,” Josie replied. Penelope laughed. How could she not; the most beautiful girl in the world was smiling at her and teasing her as they stood naked in the shower together. Josie leaned forward and kissed her again and Penelope swooned. And then Josie whispered into her ear: “I’m still pretty worked up. Mind making good on your promise?”

Josie wanted nothing more than to do just that. Her eyes lit up at the request and she felt her tongue slide over her lips. Josie laughed gently and lifted her arms up and off Penelope. The dark haired twin leaned back against the wall of the shower. The smooth tile was warm from the water running over it.

Josie’s legs shifted apart, showing Penelope the treasure that lay between them. Penelope’s eyes fixated on the thick forest of hair that had grown there. Josie hadn’t been lying. The dark curls of Josie’s bush were matted down by the running water, and other more fragrant fluids. The liquids coating the hairs made them sparkle in the bathroom’s florescent light. And hidden between those curls was what Penelope craved.

Carefully Penelope sank to her knees in front of Josie. It wasn’t the first time that they had done this in here. And Josie clearly hadn’t forgotten what worked best. Once Penelope was settled in front of her Josie raised one of her legs up and rested it on Penelope’s shoulder, giving Penelope the access she needed. With Josie’s leg raised Penelope could finally see the prize that awaited her. Josie’s lips were parted and her pussy was slick with her arousal and the warm water cascading over them.

Penelope leaned forward, burying her nose in the heavy bush. She inhaled deeply. The smell of Josie’s arousal sent a stab of desire through her. Josie’s hands tangled into her hair and tugged her forward impatiently. And who was Penelope to deny Josie anything?

Josie moaned loudly when Penelope gave her what she wanted. Penelope’s lips pushed into the thick bush only stopping when they found the entrance to Josie’s pussy. Penelope started by kissing the wet flesh there. She started with a few gentle pecks, both to tease and further warm Josie up. She knew from experience that Josie loved the visual of Penelope’s head between her legs and the anticipation of what was to come. Sure enough Josie let Penelope continue for a few moments. Penelope knew it was time to move on when she felt the hands tangled in her hair force her forward and hold her still.

With her face pressed deep against Josie’s cunt Penelope was in heaven. She slowly ran her tongue up the center, burying it as deep into Josie’s cleft as possible. The slow, lingering pace was as much for her own benefit as Josie’s. This way Penelope got a good taste of her girl, even though it was diluted thanks to the water coursing over them. But one taste was never enough. And so Penelope threw herself into the task of eating Josie’s pussy. Each lick was earnest, and pushed as deep into the cleft as possible to maximize the amount of liquid Penelope could taste.

However, despite her obsession with tasting as much of Josie as possible, Penelope was careful to run her tongue up and down the length of Josie’s pussy, hitting each of the spots she knew made her girl swoon. At the end of each pass, Penelope would flatten her tongue against the tight bud of Josie’s clit. The bursts of strong pressure against that sensitive spot had Josie squirming and moaning in a steady rhythm. And with each flick Josie would pull tighter at Penelope’s hair. The yanking would become momentarily painful each time Josie’s body tightened and stilled in orgasm. Each one was small, and left Josie hungry for the next one.

They spent a pleasant eternity in that way. Josie moaning her pleasure and Penelope lost in creating those sensations. Both girls never wanted it to end. But Josie’s muscles grew sore from stretching her leg to give Penelope access and the firmness of the tile was starting to wear on Penelope’s knees. Despite those minor pains Penelope would have happily continued. But Josie had other ideas.

Pushing her ex away Josie carefully unhooked her leg and stood upon her two feet. Carefully she tugged at Penelope’s hands, drawing her up so that they were standing face to face. Penelope’s eyes shone in the falling water when Josie’s lips met hers. Their tongues dueled as the water fell around them. Josie seemed to determined to grab every drop of her own juices from Penelope’s mouth.

Disappointment gripped Penelope when Josie pulled away. At least until Josie spoke.

“Let’s go back to your bed. I want to ride that pretty face of yours.”

Those words were enough to make Penelope want nothing more than to race to the bed, still dripping wet. But they didn’t. Josie first shut off the shower and then kissed Penelope again. Penelope was again seemingly responsible for getting the door open. This attempt went slightly better, and it only took a few seconds of blindly reaching out with her arm before she found the door and pushed it open. With the door open, cold air replaced the warm air that had filled the shower. Josie’s hands rubbed over Penelope’s wet skin, causing Penelope to laugh, breaking the kiss.

“What are you doing,” Penelope chuckled.

“Trying to keep you warm.”

Josie’s reply did nothing to stop Penelope’s mirth, and she quickly dissolved into giggles. Which caused Josie to pout. Cutely. And that caused Penelope to laugh harder. Josie tried to glare, but it was a failed effort and her serious expression soon dissolved into laughter. The sound filled the small room, bouncing off the ceramic tile of the shower walls. It wrapped around them and Penelope felt something inside her loosen.

She’d spent so long being worried and afraid. Afraid for Josie’s happiness, afraid of a future without Josie, afraid that every sacrifice had been for nothing, afraid that she would never be enough for Josie. Sometimes she honestly couldn’t remember a time she hadn’t been afraid. It had often felt like a weight on her chest, preventing her from enjoying any moment she had been in. She’d tried so hard to defeat that fear herself, to keep the thing she feared most from happening. But it had never worked. She’d never felt free of that burden.

Not in the way simply holding Josie in a cold, damp shower, with the echoes of their laughter fading does. Finally she feels like she can breathe. And all there is, is this moment. Her fears feel as if they are from a lifetime ago. She knows she’s smiling softly. She can feel the corners of her mouth rising. It’s not planned or something she has control over. So she goes with it. Her eyes are alight with a fire that she thought long gone and all she can see in that moment is Josie, happy and beautiful. 

And miraculously Josie is looking at her in the same way. There is an unspoken connection that Penelope feels thrumming in the air between them. Still smiling at her love Penelope steps backwards, past the threshold of the shower door and into the bathroom proper. Without breaking eye contact with Josie she reaches backwards, gripping the towel hanging on the wall rack. She holds the maroon towel open in front of her, even as water dropplets fall from her skin and splash against the ground. Josie’s smile is bright enough to light the entirty of the grounds. And somehow it grows only more dazzling as Josie steps into the cotton’s warm embrace. Penelope carefully massages the cloth into Josie’s skin, trying to remove each and every water droplet. She succeeds, though the finds that she hasn’t managed to cure Josie of all of her wetness.

With Josie dry, Penelope lets the towel fall away from Josie’s skin. Josie’s hands close over the cotton and Penelope lets her take control of the soft towel. Josie returns the favor. The soft cloth rubs over Penelope’s skin creating small thunderstorms of sensation.

There is something intensely erotica in having Josie dry her. It’s not the act of the towel rubbing across her skin exactly. It’s about Josie. About how focused the other girl is as she makes sure to gently get every drop. Penelope knows that in that moment Josie is thinking of nothing but caring for her. She is Josie’s entire world, the sole focus of Josie’s infinite capacity for caring. And it makes her feel like she can’t imagine. It erases a lifetime of rejection, of knowing that no one can truly love her, just like her own coven couldn’t. 

And suddenly the gentle ministrations stop and Penelope is dry. She wants to step back under the water, to create an excuse for this to continue just a little longer.

And then Josie is removing the towel and Penelope feels the loss when the other girl turns to hang it up. The act takes time. Penelope isn’t sure why Josie is bothering. Or why Josie looks so pleased when she gets the towel just right.

“Did I get it right?” Josie asks, turning back to Penelope with a proud look on her face, indicating she already knows the answer. And suddenly so does Penelope. It’s for her. Josie is arranging the bathroom the way Penelope like it. Everything neat and clean. Because all of Penelope’s possessions are within the walls of her room and while they ae meager they’re hers. So she cares for them.

Seeing Josie put that level of care in, despite knowing what a secret slob the other girl was, brings that intense feeling back. Penelope has no words to explain her needs. But she doesn’t need them. As if understanding Josie draws her into another kiss.

The kiss is the first in a series of many short ones as they slowly drift towards the bedroom again. Somehow Penelope manages to keep enough brain function to make sure she never stops touching Josie until they fall together onto her bed.

And then Josie is pinning her, holding her so that her back is pressed firmly against the sheets. Sheets that feel fantastic against the sensitive skin of her back. Penelope briefly contemplates struggling but the though is banished when Josie slides on top of her.

Their faces are inches apart, and Penelope delights at the feel of Josie’s weight on her. Josie leans forward and kisses her again. It’s soft and light and ends far too soon, leaving Penelope greedy for more. Penelope tries to follow but Josie’s hands presses firmly against her shoulders, keeping her pinned to the bed.

Penelope whines petulantly as she is forced to wait for Josie to shift into position. All to slowly Josie shifts so that first she is straddling Penelope’s hips and then her stomach. Penelope’s breath hitches and the whining stops when Josie’s wet core dips down to trace wetly across Penelope’s stomach. Penelope whimpers when the wet flesh reaches her breasts. And then, finally, after an eternity of suffering Josie is looming over her head.

Tease that she is Josie keeps her knees bent and hovers over Penelope’s greedy mouth. The aroma wafting from Josie’s core is almost unbearable. Its causes Penelope’s mouth to water and body to burn with unbridled need. She wants to reach up and pull her girl down, so that her entire world becomes nothing but Josie’s pussy. But she knows that that isn’t how this works. 

Josie will decide when Penelope gets to taste, to touch, to smell and feel and G0d shee needs Josie to decide now is the time. It’s embarrassing but she can’t stop herself from pleading. The words don’t much matter and Penelope isn’t even sure what she manages to string together could be called a sentence. All she knows is that her voice is betraying her need. Which makes it clear to both of them. Josie has won this round. 

And thankfully for Penelope Josie is a gracious winner. She reaches down and takes a firm grasp of Penelope’s long dark hair before bending her knees and covering Penelope’s still begging mouth with her pussy.

They both release moans when Penelope’s lips come into contact with Josie’s. Penelope simply can’t contain her joy at her position. All she can see, taste and smell is Josie. The strong, pungent scent of Josie fills every inch of Penelope’s nostrils and promises moments of intense bliss. Josie is so wet that her liquids are smearing onto Penelope’s lips and into her mouth just from the contact.

The flavor spurs her into action. She can’t hold back any longer knonwing that she is seconds away from filling her mouth with proof of Josie’s feelings towards her. Her lips latch onto Josie’s wet center. She ignores the course hairs that find their way insider he rmouth as well and simply begins to suck. And when that isn’t enough, her tongue lashes out, plunging as deep as possible into Josie one second and then gliding across the surface to collect any juices there the next.

Penelope continues to move frantically and furiously, doing everything possible to like, kiss and suck all of the juices from inside Josie. She’s pretty sure that even though she’s rusty Josie has no complaints. Her love is grinding down hard on her face and gripping her hair tightly to force her ever deeper. A request Penelope was only too happy to fulfill.

Penelope continues to lose herself in the act of pleasing her girlfriend. Josie’s copious juices are spilling all over Penelope’s face and still the other girl shows no sign of stopping.

But it can’t last. Josie can feel her body betraying her. And Penelope recognizes the signs. And if she’s being honest she welcomes them. Because as much as she wants to continue eating Josie forever, she cannot contain her excitement at the though of sending Josie over the edge and turning her girl into a writhing mess.

And then it happens. Josie’s entire body spasms in a series of short intense bursts. Her pussy rubs all over Penelope’s face and even falls off of it a few times as the pleasure overrides her muscular control. She’s screaming and someone may hear. But neither notice. Josie is too busy and Penelope can barely hear anything with Josie’s thighs closing over her ears.

And then the moment was over. Josie collapsed next to Penelope on the bed. Penelope lay still and ignored the thrumming in her body in favor of watching her girl bask in the afterglow. Josie looked contented and exhausted. Which wasn’t surprising. The day had been long and stressful. And so Penelope was more than happy to simply hold the other witch as they both feel asleep. Maybe she could get Josie to return the favor in the morning, if this wonderful dream didn’t end with the coming of the dawn. And if not at least she’d gotten to enjoy Josie’s body again. And see Josie’s piercing eyes lit up with love for her.

However, despite her obvious exhaustion, Josie had other plans. Josie’s fingers had reached out and honed in on Penelope’s clit. Penelope’s only warning of what was to come was Josie’s thin fingers pushing aside the thick lips of Penelope’s pussy to reveal Penelope’s clit. The soft pad of a finger firmly pressed against that sensitive bundle of nerves. Penelope’s body jerked and shook as pleasure surged through her. Thankfully, unlike Josie, Penelope didn’t need much foreplay before being pleasured with direct stimulation. Or to be more accurate she always found going down on Josie to be foreplay enough. A fact Josie takes advantage of, launching a brutal assaut of pleasure upon Penelope which thrust Penelope back into that heightened space where everything is crystal clear and all that matters is the moment.

Josie’s fingers roughly press into Penelope’s flesh. The strong fingers bury into the sensitive flesh of Penelope’s labia and move in wide circles. At the apex of each one Josie’s fingers strike Penelope’s clit. It feels fantastic. But it’s too little. She needs more. She wants to beg and maybe even risk getting into a power struggle that Josie will use to rile her up even more, by grabbing Josie’s hand and forcing it where she needs it. But Josie takes pity on her and then the fingers press directly into her clit and there is nothing but white hot heat.

Penelope’s fingers provide no mercy. They press firmly against the hard flesh and rub to generate what feels like an impossible amount of friction. And them Penelope’s mind goes blank. Her breaking becomes rapid and unable to fill her body with enough oxygen to function. Her entire body stiffens and she is entirely present in the moment. At least until it passes and her muscles relax. And then she notices Josie has shifted.

No longer is Josie pressing her into the bed and pressing fingers deep into her. Instead Josie has shifted them so that she is curled around Penelope. Penelope can feel herself relaxing into the delicate hold. She entwines her arms with Josie’s which are holding her from behind and are wrapped over her chest. Josie has wrapped her arms around Penelope. And she can feel Josie breathing softly into her ear.

She wants to tell Josie how much this all means to her. And to explain how madly in love she is. But no words come out of her mouth. She doesn’t even have the energy left to keep her eyes open. And so they flutter closed. And her chest falls into a steady rhythm as her breathing slows. Her last thought before drifting off to sleep is how nothing she could possibly dream would be better than this moment.


	4. Got So Far

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter from Rafael's pov. Fair warning, this one has a lot of self hatred and rough sex.

His muscles burn with a steady pain. He’s doing his best to ignore it, to keep going but it’s becoming harder with each second and each thrust. His calves are tight and he can feel the muscles going even more rigid. He knows a charlie horse is in his future. But he can’t seem to care.

So he keeps pushing. His calves push against the ground, helping to stabilize him as his hips thrust back and forth, driving his cock in and out of her body. She’s tight. Impossibly tight. Tighter than Cassie ever was, even their first time.

The thought fills him with shame. And so he pumps harder, faster, longer. Anything to distract himself. He focuses on the girl lying beneath him. Her pleasure lets him forget his pain.

Her face is scrunched with the intensity of the sensations. She’s demanded that he go as fast as he can, as hard as he can. And so he is. Each thrust rocks her frail body and rips another noise from her. The latest is a grunt. Before that it was a groan.

Her nails claw at his skin. It doesn’t hurt really. Not compared to the emotions raging inside. Even uncut and with as much pressure as she can manage, they’re at most a distraction. A slight irritant really.

Her channel squeezes him tightly again and her mouth is distended into an o, a sign that she was coming again. His heightened senses made it easy to recognize the changes in her scent and the minor contractions ripping through her. With Cassie he would have slowed down, tried to gently coast her through the sensations without overwhelming her.

Lizzie wants nothing of the sort. And so he doesn’t impose it on her. He keeps pounding into her. He needs to increase the force, which means straining his body more. He somehow manages to do it. He’s digging deeper than he ever has. Sweat is coating his back and his arms are starting to tremble. 

And somehow it’s still not enough. He can still feel. Anger churns inside him. Anger at Josie. At Hope. At Landon. At himself and even Cassie. And especially at the girl lying under him. 

How can she want this? Want him? It’s a lie. A lie she tells herself. He’s a monster. Even before his curse awakened he was one. He’d killed his one true love. He’d destroyed Landon’s life as well. He was the reason they always had to move families. And Landon would follow, even though Landon could have stayed. His brother knew how to game the system. Rafael never had the patience and would inevitably get into a fight or resist a house rule and out they’d go.

And even now he knows he is hurting two people. One emotionally. One physically. And still he’s doing this. Just so he doesn’t have to feel for a little while.

And it’s working. Mostly. He’s able to ignore the fact that even now the closest thing he has to family is being sent away. He’s able to ignore that Landon will be alone. Without any resources. Without anyone to protect him. He can ignore that so long as he focuses on the wet warm hole that squeezes against his hard shaft.

But he can’t hold out forever. Her body is taking a toll on his and all too soon he can’t hold out any longer. His whole body tenses and his right calf screams in pain as a knot forms there. And then he is spilling inside her, filling her tight pussy with his seed.

A momentary calm descends over his mind. For that precious moment he isn’t thinking at all and all he feels is contentment. But it doesn’t last. His mind begins to work again and he remembers what drew him here. He is alone. Cassie is gone. Landon is gone. And he can’t forgive the people who took Landon from him. Which means he’ll be alone again.

And then she’s kissing him, driving the thoughts away. And somehow he’s growing hard again. It’s absurd. He had never been like this before. Sure he could go a few times a night and hadn’t needed to wait too long in between times but nothing like this. He’s cum at least four separate times and still his cock is thickening and growing hard again.

So he keeps pumping. He ignores the squelching sounds as his thrusts drive his seed back out from her pussy. She’s trying to speak and he forces himself to focus and listen, in case she is demanding he stop. He doesn’t want to. Though he knows he will once she asks, without question. Then he’ll be forced to face his own thoughts. 

But somehow she’s demanding he keep going. He knows she’s in pain. That each thrust must feel like sandpaper rubbing her walls. He briefly wonders what she is trying to escape. If her own pain mirrors his own.

“What the hell are you doing?” 

Hope’s voice shatters the moment and sends him scrambling to react. His brain finally takes note of the signals his body is sending. He’s aware of all the aches and pains in a way he wasn’t moments before. He tries to pull out of Lizzie, to try and salvage some modesty. But his leg doesn’t cooperate. The knot is worse than he realized and pain flairs through him as he tries to move. His leg buckles and he falls. The movement drives him further into Lizzie and the blonde reacts with a sound that is equal parts pleasure and pain.

Her walls tighten around him, almost painfully so and his cock trembles as a small rivulet shoots from inside him to inside her as a small orgasm rips through him. Finally his erection shrinks fully and he manages to roll off her before sitting up. Lizzie’s legs are still spread wide and he wonders if she has the strength to close them. Or maybe she just doesn’t care if Hope sees his cum leaking from the reddened gash between her legs.

Shame fills him at the sight. He’d lost control and done this to her. Left her leaking and red. Possibly sore. He’d never thought of himself as that guy. To use someone for his own selfish pleasure. A rational piece of his brain tries to remind him that she was an enthusiastic participant in what had occurred. A fact he is reminded of when Lizzie responds to Hope. 

“What does it look like?” Lizzie shoots back. “Why don’t you find anywhere else to be? Creepy voyeur much?”

But Hope doesn’t leave. Instead she stalks further towards them. Rafael hasn’t known the tribid long, and frankly doesn’t have any desire to get to know her better given she exiled his brother, but she looks angry.

“What the hell is wrong with the two of you? Doing this here. What if Josie had found you?”

Shame flashes through Rafael. Not just at the thought of the girl that he’d been closer seeing him with her sister but that a deep part of him relished the chance to return the pain he felt at her betrayal earlier that night.

“She’d be happy I got my man,” Lizzie blurts out. Rafael can’t help feeling surprised. She sounds so earnest. But can she truly not realize how Josie feels? He can. But maybe it’s cause he felt that way too. Until that night and Josie’s ultimate betrayal. She’d made it clear her ‘family’ came first, and that he wasn’t part of that. That his needs would come a distant second.

“Even you cannot be this dense.” Hope’s tone is thick with irritation. “Or this fucking selfish.”

“Why even come in here? It’s not like we were fucking quiet,” Lizzie demands. “What you’re gonna claim you didn’t realize the gym was occupied. Or are you gonna give some lame story about investigating the noise.”

“There was no noise. And I just wanted to use the punching bag.” Hope’s blushing now. Her eyes fall downward as if she can’t look at them any longer. “Work off some energy.”

And then Hope notices the punching bag, or what’s left of it. It’s a strewn mess on the floor. Rafael first noticed it when Lizzie had been ripping off his clothes. He hadn’t thought to ask any questions though.

“And of course you destroyed the bag. Have another temper tantrum? G-d you are so inconsiderate,” Hope declares. Her eyes roll up and into the back of her head. “Screw this I’m going for a run.”

Relief washes over him. He can’t bear to look at Hope without wanting to rip out her throat. But he’s in no shape for a fight and something inside him warns he’d be no match for her anyway. But Hope doesn’t leave. She stops at the twin doors and the space in front of her flares purple.

Hope whirls back to face them, her face red with rage.

“Dammit Lizzie, it’s bad enough you cast a spell to muffle the sound so anyone can wander in here but do you really need to fucking lock us in here too? A one way barrier is not the way to get an audience for your creepy exhibitionist fetish.”

“Okay, first I’m not an exhibitionist. Second stop slut shaming me for going after what I want just because you had to say good bye to your crush tonight. And Third, why the fuck would I want you here even a second longer?”

“If you didn’t cast the spell, and I certainly didn’t, then who would bother to…”

The answer clearly comes to both girls at the same time. Rafael isn’t sure who they are blaming but it’s clear that Lizzie wants to kill them.

“That bitch,” Lizzie declares. “I’m going to kill her.”

“Whatever. Can you two please put on your clothes while we’re stuck here? Or at least take it to the locker room where I don’t have to see.”

The two girls lock eyes and Rafael can feel the battle of wills. Then Lizzie gets shakily to her feet 

“Come on Raf,” she says. “I’ve always wanted to try shower sex.”

And then she’s walking to the back of the gym, where it feeds into the two locker rooms. 

Hope huffs and turns away, staring at the doors keeping them locked in. She clearly intended to remain so until the spell faded and she could leave. Faced with the choice of remaining in her presence or losing himself in Lizzie again, Rafael makes the only decision he can and follows Lizzie.


	5. Lose it All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a little longer than expected to put this chapter together. Ended up dividing it into multiple parts, so it's a bit short.
> 
> June 18, 2019: While working on chapter 8 I made some light revisions to this chapter, so I'm re-uploading. All of the plot details remain the same.

Even through her stolen jacket the night air is cold. It’s causing her flesh to contract and prickle. A part of her wants to turn back, to abandon this walk across the empty school grounds and retreat to the safety of a nice warm bed and the comforting oblivion of sleep. But she can’t. Staying would only be torture. There are too many thoughts and feelings swirling inside and she knows sleep will remain elusive. Her thoughts would be consumed with the choices she had and hadn’t made. She’d be endlessly asking herself what Penelope’s actions had meant; whether things could be different; what did she really want and why, why just once couldn’t anyone pick her.

Safe in the warm building and lying next to her ex she’d be forced to do nothing but think of those things. Was Penelope even still her ex? They’d had sex again and Josie knew that was a big thing for her. Was it for Penelope? She would have thought it had to mean something to Penelope too. Maybe not if it had been a quickie in a hall or some other space that Penelope didn’t think of as hers. That could just be Penelope using her or wanting to feel good for a moment or hormones or at least a dozen other terrible things Josie had run through. 

But Penelope hadn’t dragged her into an empty room or deserted hall. They’d gone back to Penelope’s room. Josie had known Penelope long enough to know that the other witch was jealously protective of her space. So being brought back to Penelope’s room had to mean something. Or maybe she had just never understood Penelope that well.

There was plenty of evidence for that. She had once thought the other witch loved her with the same intense relentless need that she felt. Clearly, she’d been deluded. She’d been tossed aside after Penelope had gotten what she wanted. No explanation. No second chance. Penelope had just been done with her. The whispered sweet nothings and quick furtive glances filled with longing had suddenly been replaced with sharp barbs and a cold calculating sneer. Penelope’s sometimes awkward attempts to seek her out for even a minute spent together vanished and, while it took a few weeks to realize it, the other teen started putting even more energy into avoiding her. 

The memories leave her colder than the air surrounding her. They leave her insides as cold and clammy as the wind does her exposed cheeks. Suddenly she feels exposed, vulnerable. But there’s nowhere safe to retreat to.

She can’t even go to her own room. Lizzie may have brought Rafael back there for round two or four or whatever number they were on by this point. The thought of again having to witness her sister finding the love and affection she knew she’d never find for herself was too much.

And even if her sister didn’t bring the boy back to their room, Josie wasn’t sure she could see the blonde contented and spent and not immediately recall that horrible sight in the gym or the feelings it had stirred. She certainly couldn’t bear to hear Lizzie gush about the experience, completely oblivious to her feelings.

No, the cold air was better. 

The wind picks up again and it’s bitter against her face. The cold air sneaks into the pockets of the jacket where she’s stashed her bare hands, causing fresh discomfort. Choosing to leave the gloves behind had seemed the right choice in the moment. Rooting around in drawers to find them would have created too great a risk of waking the woman dozing on the small bed across from the dresser. So she’d left them, positive she’d be fine without. But she hadn’t anticipated the bite of the wind or the bitter chill in the air that night. Besides the bigger worry is her ears. They too are exposed and she’s not entirely sure whether the cold burning is normal or something to worry about.

A snapping twig reminds her that the falling temperature isn’t the only hazard she should have been watching for. A second twig snaps and then silence. But only for a second. Because then she can hear the breathing. Something is out there with her.

Any hope that whatever it is will simply go its own way and leave her to her thoughts vanish when she hears the snarl. It’s deep and animalistic. If the moon had been out she’d be positive it belonged to one of her classmates. Which meant it was an animal or the latest creature seeking the knife. Neither boded well for her.

Running is her only option, even though it’s a shitty one. She knows she can’t outrun whatever it is. But her only hope is to get close enough to the school to draw upon its power.

She only manages a few steps when a sleek form tackles her. It drives her to the ground and the air she’d been sucking in is expelled in a sharp burst. There’s a heavy weight pressing her down and she knows she doesn’t have the strength to escape.

She awaits the end. It’ll be ripping fangs and agonizing pain. Her blood will stain the ground around her and she’ll be a corpse to be feasted on. She wonders how many days it’ll take for them to find her remains and what state they’ll be in.

She hopes Lizzie won’t blame herself. Her sister often didn’t seem to care but Josie knew that wasn’t true. Lizzie would be deeply affected, all the pain and rage having no outlet. And Josie wouldn’t be there to help her through it. Maybe Rafael could. Sure, he still hated her and would likely be more than happy that she’d found a gruesome end, but he surely could push that aside for Lizzie’s sake. That was what a significant other was for right? Looking out for you when you couldn’t for yourself. Though, Penelope never had been good at that part.

Truthfully, she wasn’t sure if Penelope would care at all. Maybe her ex would be relieved that it was no longer necessary to figure out how to break up with her again. It would be nice if some good could come out of her death, even if it was just to spare Penelope an awkward conversation. Or maybe Josie was the one being spared and Penelope was looking forward to tormenting her again. Maybe she was denying the other witch a chance at happiness.

She hoped she wasn’t denying Hope that chance. The two girls had been bonding recently and while they still weren’t that friendly, Josie knew that other than Landon and her father, she was the person Hope was closest to in this world. Maybe Hope and Lizzie could bond over her loss. That way neither would be alone now that Josie wouldn’t be there for them anymore.

Wishful thinking. Even though she and Hope aren’t that close, Josie knows the blonde will take it hard and as further proof that the best path was to isolate herself from everyone else.

She’s about to move onto MG and wonder if this will be some sort of turning point that he’ll use to become like the comic book heroes he’s always going on about, when she realizes that there is a distinct lack of pain, other than the lingering aches from her rough journey to the ground.

So she opens her eyes and finds not a wolf, but Hope, laying on top of her, pinning her to the ground. Which was more than a little unexpected and Josie is relatively sure she should be having feelings about this but all that goes through her head is the realization that she is going to live. Though perhaps not if she kept annoying the other girl.

Hope’s clearly agitated, but Josie’s brain couldn’t seem to recall a single word the blonde has clearly been saying. In fact now that she realizes that she’s not in danger of immediate death another fact comes to the forefront of her mind. Hope is naked. Very naked.

Warmth immediately fills Josie’s cheeks and she’s sure she must be blushing. She tries to keep her eyes on Hope’s full moving lips in a desperate attempt to force herself to focus on the words spilling forth but she’s only human. Her eyes fixate, without her permission, upon Hope’s exposed breasts. Josie’s breath catches in her throat and her mouth goes dry.

“And you’re not even listening to me,” Hope says. She’s sitting up now, straddling Josie. Which makes it even easier for Josie to lose herself in the perfection that is Hope’s tits. At least until a loud forced cough forces Josie back to reality.

“Sorry,” Josie mutters. She wishes the ground would swallow her whole. Or an actual monster would come and rip her to shreds. Anything to escape this moment. “Kind of distracting having a very hot naked girl on top of me.”

Hope snorts in response. It was a distinctly unladylike sound and somehow did nothing to detract from Hope’s stunningness. Was that a word? Josie wasn’t sure and was pretty sure it needed to be because that was what Hope was. The quality of stunning distilled into a human.

Josie’s eyes stood transfixed while Hope’s muscles shifted as the tribid got off of her. Josie was surprised to find she was only partially relieved about that. G-d was she turning into a slut? She pushed the thought aside to focus on the girl now standing over her and offering a hand up.

Instead of focusing on Hope’s offered hand Josie’s traitorous eyes slide over the tribid’s body, taking in every soft curve and hard line of muscle. Hope’s body is a delicious portrait of contrasts. Full soft breasts give way to a sculpted stomach, Josie was sure she could see at least a four pack. And the hard lines of Hopes taut stomach transition to the soft curves of her hips and holy shit Hope was clean shaven and Josie could see everything. Guilt flashed through her as she imagined running her tongue over Hope’s exposed pussy and if the tribid would taste different than Penelope. Objectifying her friend wasn’t right and she was possibly with Penelope again, which made this far too close to cheating for Josie’s comfort. 

Swallowing loudly Josie took the other girl’s hand and allowed herself to be pulled up. She couldn’t stop staring though. A fact Hope seemed to accept for the moment. 

“You should know better than to wander around here at night,” Hope chided her, “I could have hurt you.”

The accusing tone does what embarrassment and Josie’s own willpower couldn’t and shakes her from her stupor. 

“You don’t own the forest Hope,” she says petulantly. The redhead meets her tone with a glare back and the two girls are quickly devolving into their usual dynamic. Only Josie doesn’t have the energy for it tonight. Not after everything that’s happened. Her shoulders sag and the righteous indignation drains out of her and only exhaustion is left. “What are you even doing out here? Weren’t you seeing Landon off?”

Now it’s Hope that blushes. The red tinge to her cheeks only makes the tribrid more attractive. The frustration that was clear in Hope’s body language vanishes. The normally closed off girl suddenly looks almost vulnerable. Josie can’t help herself. She’s worried about Hope. Even if Hope had rejected every overture of friendship Josie and her sister had made over the years, Josie couldn’t help but care.

“Did something happen,” Josie asks softly. “Are you okay?”

The question seems to catch Hope off guard. If Josie didn’t know any better she’d guess that Hope was blushing. And then suddenly Hope does something Josie never thought possible. She opens up.

“I kissed him.”

Surprise floods Josie. She has questions. So many questions. But it’s not the time. Hope clearly needs her and after the night she’s had Josie isn’t interested in furthering past grudges. So she waits for Hope to continue.

“And I think we may be together. I want us to be together,” Hope whispers.

Josie isn’t prepared for any of this. Just a few hours ago Hope had been dead set against Landon staying and okay it had seemed like it was because she cared about him, but Josie had figured it was just Hope’s usual pushing away the people she could possibly care about thing. But clearly it’s something else. If Hope had kissed him and tried to make something work despite the distance that would separate them then it was something Josie hadn’t thought Hope capable of.

For a split second she’s jealous of the redhead. Yet another person manages to find love. Someone who objectively wasn’t even trying to find it manages to. And Josie is just left with yet another rejection and a giant mistake.

The thought fades when she notices Hope is shivering and the other girl’s flesh has goosebumps lining it. Annoyed at her own callousness, Josie quickly pulls off the coat she’d borrowed and passes it to Hope. The blonde takes it carefully and smiles slightly at the gesture. There’s no false attempt to refuse the coat. It’s cold out and Hope needs something to wear if she’s going to remain in human form.

Though once she has it on the redhead frowns.

“What?” Josie asks. She knows she’s being defensive but she can’t take another slight this evening. “Is it not good enough?” 

“No. It’s just, it doesn’t smell like you. Or Lizzie. And I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you wear it.”

“Oh. It might be Penelope’s,” Josie whispers. Her eyes drop to the ground and she’s sure her face must have turned a bright red. 

“You kept her jacket for a – Oh. I see,” Hope said. “Guess you needed a walk too?”

When Penelope raises her eyes she expects to find judgment. It’s deserved. After everything Penelope has put her through Josie was weak, pathetic and went crawling back as soon as she could.

But that’s not the look in Hope’s eyes. There’s a mix of things. Some shock and surprise yes. But Joise’s pretty sure there is concern there as well. Maybe Hope does actually care. Normally it wouldn’t be enough. Josie wouldn’t be able to see past their shared history of neglect and rebuffs. Tonight though, in light of the pain those she loves have caused her that history doesn’t seem so insurmountable. 

“It’s been a rough night,” Josie replies.

“Well we’ve got a long walk back and nothing but time if you want an ear.” 

A smile worked its way onto Josie’s face. It’s a small olive branch sure, but it means the world that night. Someone to listen to her as she tried to work through it all meant she’d no longer be alone with her thoughts. And that sounded like heaven.

“I’d like that.”


	6. Things Aren’t The Way They Were Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp this chapter wasn't planned originally but I've had a few new ideas so guess this is going to be a longer story than I thought. I'm expecting a few more short chapters like this in addition to a longer one.

The water feels delicious against her skin. It’s warm and soothing and just about enough to help her push Hope and her stupid judgmental stare from her mind. Though the latest orgasm and its lingering aftershocks are probably helping too. She smiles down at Rafael. The sight of him on his knees having just worshiped her pussy is something she could easily get used to. He’s so fucking pretty. Especially with his lips still glistening with the combination of their shared juices.

Sadly he’s not hers. Well not yet. She had meant what she’d said on the court. It was just for the night. It was just sex. Mind numbing and amazing sex she wouldn’t mind having an encore of many times in the future but still just sex. If anything it has strengthened her resolve that she choose correctly when she’d declared dibs on him.

The thought triggers another that starts to ruin her buzz. Something Hope said. Why had that stupid selfish bitch asked about her sister? If Lizzie had her way Hope would be forbidden from ever saying Josie’s name again. Of course it wasn’t up to her. She’d learned years ago that Josie was too kind and any attempt Lizzie made to protect her sister from Hope would just make Josie upset worried over how Hope would react. 

Still, how dare Hope pretend to give a fuck about her twin after years of hurting Josie? Time and again Josie had reached out and tried to welcome the redheaded brat to their home, to join them for events and to be friends. And every time Josie had asked, Hope had brushed her off or just ignored the offers. Each rejection had torn at Josie a little. And Lizzie had had to watch as her sister hurt and kept trying.

Lizzie tried to just do as Josie wanted and let it go. It never worked, she was never able to hide her resentment towards the redhead. Especially since their father always gave special attention to Hope. And since their mother always seemed to try to avoid being in the redhead’s presence he was all that they had left.

The anger is bubbling inside again and it’s too fucking much. She needs to release it. To do something about it before it boils over and she erupts. The water’s cooling around them and ironically that is doing nothing to cool the building inferno inside her.

She’s not gentle or kind. Her fingers wrap around his head and she jerks him forward, back into her core. He doesn’t seem to mind though. His tongue enters her again and he does his best to lick her. She’s not really giving him much of a chance though. Her hips are bucking, forcing her muff into his face.

“Hold still,” she growls. “Just I don’t know, tap my ass twice if it’s too much or something.” She feels his head try and nod between her legs. As much as she appreciates the affirmative consent, it’s frustrating that he’s still moving around. Her grip tightens and she pulls him closer.

He’s being smothered by her pussy and that knowledge is making her wet again. It’s almost enough to banish the churning in her gut. She focuses on the knowledge that she’s all he can smell, taste and see. She’s claiming him in the most raw and visceral way she knows. Her pace increases and she’s sliding her wet slit against his face over and over again. He has his tongue out and with each pass it slides against her clit. It’s electric and feels about as good as the knowledge of what she’s doing to him.

It’s almost perfect. The water’s too cold. She scrabbles for the handle and manages to find it after a few tries. She jerks it down and once again they are enveloped in a delicious heat.

His hands are now on her ass and she’s afraid that means it will end. She’s pushed it too far. She’ll feel a tap and it’ll be over. Only his hands only touch her once and then they don’t move. He’s trying to pull her forward, further onto his face.

The knowledge is exhilarating and her pace picks up. It feels so fucking good but she needs just a little more. Besides he doesn’t get to control her. She abandons holding his head and he probably thinks he’s won. She’s looking forward to dispelling that delusion. She pushes on his shoulders, and he pulls away confusion marking his features. She doesn’t let him ask the question clearly on his mind and just keeps pushing. He acquiesces and she knew there was a reason she liked him.

Soon he’s on his back in the shower, his knees drawn up so he’ll fit. She wastes no time and clambers over his face. Once she’s situated she’s on her knees and her pussy is once again where it belongs, on top of his pretty face. With the new position she doesn’t have to hold back. His head is safely on the floor and she doesn’t need to worry about upsetting his balance.

Her first thrust is brutal. And amazing. It’s a blast of pleasure. For him too it seems. She’s reasonably sure she can feel him moaning against her wet core. And a glance back confirms he’s rock hard. She takes note of that for later use. That they’re both enjoying this is perfect and she stops holding back.

Her hips move steadily. Each thrust is hard and pushes the soft, sensitive folds of her flesh against the hard ridges and bumps of his face. The unyielding firmness of his nose as she rubs against it is a perfect contrast to his tongue and its deliciousness softness. His deep groans are sending pulses through her as well. It’s all too much and she can’t hold it back. Her body tenses and she’s barely away that she’s resting square on his face and he might not be able to breathe. Liquid spills from her and fills his mouth. She can feel him suck, slurp and swallow.

And then it’s over and she’s falling backwards onto his chest. She’s almost boneless and not sure she has the strength to do any more. She’s tempted to call it a night and embrace the siren call of sleep, assuming the stupid barrier was gone. Though the raging erection he still has suggests that might be needlessly cruel. And if she wants a repeat she knows she needs to be a good lover.

So she sits up enough so she can meet his eyes and gives him her best sultry smile, though she’s positive it comes off more tired and happy than sexy, and makes her offer.

“Need a blow job handsome?”

Another conflicted look. Clearly he must be concerned he’s using her and that she’ll have expectations of what this all means. It’s a bit frustrating. Just because she’s a girl she can’t need to get her rocks off? And no things aren’t going to be as they were before. But she’s not going to be sending invites to their wedding out anytime soon either. But it’s also cute and suggests that there’s a chance for something more. Otherwise why worry about confusion?

She’s tempted to set the record straight but it’ll just ruin the moment. She might not be the most experienced girl in the school in regards to men but she wasn’t a stranger to having an ego either. She has little doubt that anything she says to affirm that this is just sex will just be taken as a rejection and he’ll over think it. No, better to let her actions over the next few days make her point. She’ll let him off the hook mostly for his escort promise and just ask him for the one dance. She’s only human after all and she knows she’ll want another taste soon enough. After a week or two she can go back to pursuing something more without it looking like she was trying to trap him.

She knows she’s overthinking it. If he wants to let his own issues get in the way fine. It’s no skin off her teeth if he wants blue balls. She’s not particularly excited to try giving head for the first time on a shower floor. She’s only offering to be fair. After all she’s just ridden his face so hard he looks ready to pass out. Getting him off one more time is really the least she can do and that cock is not going anywhere near her sore cunt right now. Of course he could just be overwhelmed with the kindness of her offer so she gives him time to respond.

His attention is fully on her and she thinks he may be whimpering.

“Please.” She does like hearing him beg. She’s reasonably sure that even if she doesn’t like the act that moment will make it all worth it. She’s tempted to try and drag it out. Unfortunately she doesn’t have the energy to be coy and there’s only so much time until the hot water runs out.

She shifts off of him and finds a new position where she has easy access to all of him. She briefly wonders if guys need foreplay before a blowjob or if that was covered by what they’d already done. But it’s not worth delaying over so she bends down so that her lip hover over his cock.

It’s even more impressive from this angle. She’s surprised she was able to take it all into her pussy. It’s longer than her fingers and much thicker. Thankfully unlike her sister she doesn’t have too much of a gag reflex. There’s a look of expectant agony on his face and she has to take pity on him. He’s been so good to her this evening.

So she took the plunge. Or more accurately he does. She opens her lips and lowers the wet cavern of her mouth over him. She misjudges the width a little and her lips slide against the skin. He moans and his hips jerk in response. He’s deeper inside her than she planned for this stage but it’s not to bad so she allows it. She presses her lips against the rigid flesh and slides up and down as best as she can. After a few such strokes she adds in her tongue and lashes his length with it.

She’s not sure exactly how long she is able to keep focus solely on him. At first it’s pretty easy. It’s the first time she’s doing this after all and she’s trying a bunch of different things and needs to see what works. Lips sliding over the shaft are good. He likes her tongue pressing into the bulbous tip but tracing the length of the shaft with it doesn’t seem to do much for him. He seems to like her teeth scraping over the shaft but she’s nervous about doing that so she only throws it in a few times. Actual sucking doesn’t seem to do much for him. In the end she ends up settling on bobbing her head up and down, squeezing the shaft at all times with her lips. Every now and then she’ll stop when just the tip is in her mouth and lash the head with her tongue a few times and then she’ll go back to sliding up and down the shaft.

After she finds a pattern though a truth emerges. Performing oral really isn’t her favorite sex act. Taking him into her mouth isn’t doing anything for her particularly. She’s not experiencing the physical pleasure of riding either his face or cock. There’s not much mental enjoyment either. Yeah, his enjoyment is nice to witness, but it’s not like the expressions when he’s buried to the hilt in her pussy which send excited pulses through her very core. Still it’s not that bad. There’s no discomfort in blowing him. Her jaw is doing fine. There’s no nasty taste or anything. Actually, it may be just due to the water coursing over him, but he doesn’t taste like anything. Really it’s just more boring than anything else.

So as she continues to pleasure him she lets her mind wander. Soon she’s only putting in just enough attention to monitor his reactions so she can adjust the pressure as she goes. Her mind wanders to earlier that night. First it’s what they did in the shower. The way she’d ridden his face. The feel of the cold tile against her back while his warm cock pounded into her. Those send pleasant pulses through her core and she’s almost aroused again.

Her ardor cools though as she slips farther back and remembers Hope. The girl herself is enough of a buzz kill but it’s what she said that is bothering Lizzie. The blonde been so certain Josie would be upset. And yeah okay walking in and seeing your twin sister losing her virginity would definitely be scaring but it wasn’t like Josie was gonna have no idea. It was gonna be awkward as fuck. The way it had been when Josie had let she who must not be named finger fuck her and bust her hymen. It had hurt enough that Lizzie held felt it through their connection. They’d had to have a conversation about it. And what it meant for their future relationships. So it that’s what Hope meant, then it wasn’t worth worrying about.

But it doesn’t quite fit. For someone who’d rebuffed Josie’s attempts at friendship she’d been particularly vehement about being concerned about Josie’s feelings. She feels like she may be on to something when Rafael demands her attention. His hands find their way to her head and he’s pushing her down. He’s pushing deeper than she’d gone on her own.

She wonders if he wants her to fully deep throat him. She’s willing to try. Then she notices the throbbing in his cock and she has a better idea. She reaches up and pushes off his hands. He allows it and she feels the pressure lessen.

She continues going down, welcoming him into her throat. It’s a tight fit and not particularly comfortable but she doesn’t need to do it for long. She feels his cock tremble and it’s incredibly clear he’s cumming. She jerks her head back up his length so that only the tip is still in her mouth. She lets the liquid collect on her tongue until the last spurt. It’s bitter and musky. But it’s worth it for what comes next.

She shifts so they are face to face and then leans down. His eyes grow wide and his head shoots up to meet hers. When his tongue enters her mouth it finds a pool of his own seed there. He certainly doesn’t seem to mind the flavor based on how intensely he kisses her. Her mind explodes with fireworks. The mental stimulation from feeding him his own sperm is intense.

When finally her mouth is clean and his orgasm has ended she pulls back and rests heavily on the floor. A quick glance shows that he’s blissed out from the sensations. She waits patiently for that to change. She’s not enough of a bitch to just walk out on him. Yeah it was just a cathartic release for her but she doubt he’ll understand that now that the emotions have been fully excised she’s ready to move on. Especially since she really does like him and the longer she sits here hanging out with him the harder it’s gonna be to view this as a one off.

Also she’s tired and has shit to do before she can turn in for the night. Like payback for Penelope’s bullshit stunt. Clearly the other witch had intended to piss her off and then lock her in the gym for a few hours. And yeah okay it worked out but still she owed that bitch several times over. And Lizzie always paid her debts.


	7. You Wouldn't Even Recognize Me Anymore

Josie can’t remember the last time she’s laughed like this. It’s not that she’s unburdened, the events of the night still weigh heavy and she has no doubt she’s still processing everything. It’s more like she’s weighed down so much that she can’t feel any worse. There’s no more room for regret or anxiety over how what she says will make Hope or Lizzie or anyone else feel. And there’s a freedom to it.

It lets her enjoy the story that Hope is telling. She’s chuckling and laughing at the sheer corniness of it while Hope glares at her. Normally she’d be worried about hurting Hope’s feelings or if the other girl would stop confiding in her. Not now though. Now she’s just laughing and delighting in what a ridiculous rom-com life Hope was living.

“And you really went for that?”

“It was cute,” Hope defends. “And sweet.”

“It’s so corny. Like something from a John Hughes move.”

“Yeah I don’t know what that is.”

Josie’s eyes roll at that. “Well, if you ever agreed to come to movie night you would.” She’s waiting for Hope’s snort and denial. It doesn’t come.

“Maybe the next one,” Hope says quietly. But Josie hears and her smile grows even larger. She knows Hope can’t miss it. “Stop it. You’re being too sappy.”

“I though you liked sappy. It’s what got Landon some after all.”

Hope’s blush only makes Josie laugh harder.

“It was just a kiss. Okay a few kisses. It’s not like I slept with him at the bus stop.”

“Only because the bus came.”

“You’re so mean!” Hope exclaims. And then she gets a twinkle in her eye. “Also, you’re one to talk.” Hope’s head is nodding to the coat that was currently her only article of clothing.

And like that the tables turn. Josie’s face grows bright red and now it’s Hoping laughing merrily. It only lasts a second and then Josie joins in. The two girls laugh at each other and themselves. Josie is a little surprised she’s able to laugh so freely about everything. Maybe it’s just shock, the cold, or sharing what happened with Hope, but she’s not angry at the playful jab. When they finally fall silent they are both smiling.

They walk a little longer. The school is slowly becoming visible again. Something’s been niggling at the back of Josie’s mind as they’ve been talking. She was surprised to find that it was easy to tell Hope about the gym and what she’d seen. The other girl had admitted to walking into the same sight. Hope had even added a few choice words about what Lizzie had done to Josie.

Josie appreciates the redhead’s anger on her behalf. She’s not used to anyone caring about her feelings. It’s surprisingly nice. Comforting even. It makes her feel safe. Like how she feels is okay and valid. She knows that Hope will be on her side. It’s freeing. Which is what gives her the strength to ask her next question.

“How do you trust him?” Josie asks. It’s a non-sequitur but she’s sure Hope knows what she’s asking. “I mean he hurt you once. How do you know he won’t again?”

Silence stretches between them. Just as Josie starts to regret asking the question and shattering the weak bond that had been forming between them Hope breaks the silence. The Tribid’s tone is careful, as if she is wary of upsetting Josie.

“You’re not actually asking about Landon right?”

“No. I mean sorta. I don’t want him hurting you again, but yes, I’m not really asking about him. I need to know how you got over it. The betrayal. I mean he lied to you right? How are you sure all of that is in the past? That he won’t hurt you again?”

“Well having to give him a magic lie detector test didn’t hurt.” Hope chuckles lightly and it’s contagious. Josie cracks a smile despite herself. “But yeah I get what you mean. I don’t know. I’m not sure I do, know that he won’t I mean.”

“So why? I mean how did you decide it was worth…” She can’t voice the words. But Hope knows. If anyone knows that fear, it’s Hope. Hope who drives away everyone to avoid even the slightest risk of that fear coming true again.

“I guess I just got tired of trying to deny myself what I want. It’s just exhausting. Coming up with reasons why it couldn’t work and to stay mad at him. I just can’t help it. I care about him and it’s so fucking scary. And then when I went to leave and he used the charm I made so he can always reach me, G-d I just couldn’t resist any longer. I think you were right. I clearly like sappy.”

Josie sinks into her own thoughts. It’s not exactly the answer she was hoping for. It doesn’t provide a roadmap that she can use to determine how to proceed. It’s just what she always does really. Believe in the good and hope for the best. But she’s spent a lifetime doing that and she just can’t anymore. Can she? At this point her heart has been ripped to shreds so many times she’s not sure there’s anything left. Hope’s voice interrupts her thoughts.

“So, I’ve got a question. Which are you really asking about: Rafael or Penelope?”

Josie’s not sure. Which is an answer she’s not ready to share. But there’s an easy quip there.

“Can’t I be asking about my sister?”

“Only if you want me to hurl all over this jacket.”

“Mind out of the gutter please. She did hurt me tonight, maybe I need to figure out how to move past it.” And yes, it was a joke but something in Josie needs it acknowledged that her relationship with Lizzie isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. It’s hard and takes work and compassion.

“Okay and yeah that would be fair but we both know it’s not her so which one?”

“I don’t know. Both, neither. I’m just not sure it’s worth it.” The stupid wind picks up again and now Josie is fully aware of the cold. And that she’d given her coat to Hope. Which forces a snort from her. It’s the perfect example of her life. She was so worried about someone else that she screwed herself. And okay she knows there’s nothing wrong with not being a selfish person but could she ever just get a win?

“Regretting giving me the jacket yet?” It’s as if Hope is reading her mind and it’s terrifying. But that can’t be. She’s reasonably certain mind reading isn’t one of Hope’s powers, or spells. The Tribrid’s next words are meant to assure her, but really just give her further evidence of mind reading. “It’s not that big a leap. You’re always looking out for the people around you. You care more than anyone and three of the people you care most about have hurt you pretty bad. First Penelope, then Lizzie and Rafael. So you’re wondering if it’s worth caring about any of them. Or any one. Because you’re just going to get hurt again. And now you’re cold and don’t get to stare at all of this anymore,” the suggestive look and over the top hand gestures highlighting the redhead’s assets that Hope throws her way is enough to rip an awkward chuckle form Josie, “because you were worried about me. And it didn’t even occur to you to keep the coat. And I’m someone who routinely pushes you away. So it’d be natural to be annoyed about that.”

Josie freezes in place. She wants to be angry, but her emotions won’t comply. For once they’re silent. Probably too stunned by the words the usually aloof girl has spoken to actually make themselves heard. She’s not sure what to say, there’s only one word on her mind which manages to slip past her lips.

“How?”

Hope stops a few steps away. They’ve come close enough to the school that its lights illuminate Hope’s fiery red hair. Then she turns and Josie’s breath catches in her throat. Hope was really stunning. She’d be perfection if it wasn’t for the sad wistful look staining her eyes. The Tribid stares silently at her, mouth in a small half smile. No words are exchanged. The answer hits Josie from nowhere. It’s been omnipresent, all around her and she’s never once realized.

“That’s why you never let us in. Never let me in.” It’s not a statement. Josie wishes it could be. But she’s confused. She’d thought it was something else. Disliking Lizzie, holding them responsible for Klaus’s death, thinking they weren’t good enough for her to be friends with. But somehow she had missed the obvious. It’s a question. One that Hope answers with a soft shrug.

“I wouldn’t be like me if I could help it. I’m trying not be anymore.”

“Because of Landon.” Josie’s not sure why the words hurt to speak. They feel like another rejection, though it’s not Hope uttering them.

“I mean yeah he makes me want to be open, but that’s not what gives me the strength to try.” There’s something Hope’s not saying. She can tell Hope’s giving her a meaningful look, but nothing’s clicking. “Josie. Really? It’s you. You give me the strength to try.”

Josie’s positive the shock is clear in her eyes. What was Hope saying?

“No, I’m not hitting on you. I mean like you’re my inspiration,” the redhead continues. It’s clear that she’s having some trouble figuring out what words to use. Josie is happy to remain quiet though. She’s also not sure what to say. “Look, losing someone you care about. It’s hard. Really hard. And in the end, everyone leaves. It’s been easier not to care. So, I keep my distance. But you. G-d Josie you somehow manage to open yourself up and care. And it’d be one thing if no one ever hurt you. But they do. I do. And you still keep trying.”

“I’m stupid that way,” Josie mutters as her eyes break away from Hope’s.

“It’s not stupid. It’s brave. You’re brave.” Suddenly Hope is directly in front of her. Josie feels a soft hand on her shoulder and another curling around her back. And then suddenly she’s in a hug. Her body freezes at the sensation and her mind fails to generate any thoughts. Her confusion lasts only a second and then her body acts without permission.

She sinks into the embrace. Her face burrows into the crook of Hope’s neck. She can feel the burn of unshed tears stinging the corner of her eyes. Her arms wrap around the other girl and a desperate strength fills them, causing her grip to tighten.

Hope’s voice reaches her even in this state. It’s soft and soothing. The tone conveys as much as the words and Josie can’t contain her emotions anymore. She squeezes even tighter even as tears spill forth from her eyes. Hope holds her until the tears stop and Josie’s arms go slack and fall to her sides.

Josie lets herself linger a few seconds longer. The comforting is nice. More than that it’s nice to know someone actually cares. Though it reminds her it’s not the first time that day she’s been held like that.

She remembers another set of arms and other soft words assuring her everything was going to be okay. She remembers a comforting smell that makes her both calm and want in a way that is difficult to explain. It’s not something she wants to remember. It’s confusing and part of the problem. How can she reconcile that moment with the last year of awfulness?

And so she pulls away. Hope is looking at her carefully. Josie wants to feel ire, if only to push away the exhaustion that had seeped in. But she can’t manage it. Hope is watching her sure, but there’s no judgement. The only one judging her is her. It’s tiring. Which makes her realize something. She’s tired. Of all of it. Of being afraid. Of trying to be perfect only to be rejected. Of spending so much of herself worrying. 

She’s spent as long as she can remember terrified. Terrified of not being good enough. Not good enough to keep her father afloat, or for her mother to want to stay or to keep her sister happy. Not good enough to stand out, to make someone care about her in the way she cares for everyone else. And she’s still letting that fear control her. But it’s fucking exhausting and right now as the cold wind seeps past the thin shell of cotton around her and into not just her skin but the very fiber of her being she can’t remember why.

It’s not like she hasn’t been living those nightmares for the last year. Her mother is gone more often than not. Her sister’s self-destructive moments are increasing, and her father is so lost in running the school and trying to reach Hope he’s essentially lost to her. She’d been dumped and forced to watch as the girl she’d fallen in love with spent more time and energy harassing her sister than had been spent on their relationship.

So what is she so afraid of? For the life of her she can’t name it. The last year hadn’t killed her. And it’s not like the status quo would change any if she just stopped worrying. It certainly hadn’t made things worse this evening. She’d made more progress in earning Hope’s friendship that night then she’d had in years.

Hope, who is watching her carefully, with the look of quiet concern Josie had longed to see on her ex’s face or even any member of her family. And then Josie is laughing. It’s not a pleasant sound, even to her own ears. It’s borderline hysterical with a desperate tinge to it that causes her to grimace slightly. Hope’s immediate and reflexive attempt to comfort her only makes it worse.

She holds up a hand to fend off the Tribid’s incoming hug. It would just start this cycle all over again and she’s in no mood to play Groundhog’s Day with these emotions.

It takes almost a half minute before she’s able to regain full control of herself. When she does she finds Hope poised to spring into action. Just what action Hope thinks could help here, Josie doesn’t want to guess. It’s a moot concern anyway. She’s feeling better. Hope’s watching eyes tell Josie she needs to externalize that or face a clingy Tribrid.

So she smiles. It’s deep and genuine and Hope’s face lights up in response.

“I’m good. Really. You’ve been fantastic.”

The two girls begin walking again. They trade jokes and barbs and little jokes about their shared home. It’s nice. Josie forgot how nice it was to really relax. She’s sad to see it end when they finally reach the front entrance. Thankfully Hope doesn’t completely revert to her old self.

The redhead flashes a nervous smile and plays with her hair. Josie’s answering smile is warm and the brunette hopes it’ll be enough to make the redhead comfortable. It seems to do the job because Hope speaks.

“So what are you gonna do about Rafael and Penelope?”

“I honestly don’t know. But I do have a jacket to return.”


	8. Not That You Knew Me Back Then

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took forever to write and I'm still not a hundred percent happy with it, but I think it's as close as I'll get. I don't normally give content warnings but given the subject matter here I will. There's some low details mentions of conversion therapy, homophobia and teen homelessness in this chapter so please feel free to skip if necessary. As the series didn't give Penelope much backstory at all, I took some liberties.

The hallway is empty except for her. Curfew has come and gone and everyone else has found their way to a room for the night. Though, not necessarily their own. Yes, the school has rules, but there are more students than faculty, so enforcement is another matter. Besides, some rules are meant to be broken.

Some aren’t. Penelope is dangerously close to breaking one of those now. It’s not a school rule. It’s her own. A far more important one than the curfew Alaric has created to enforce a sense of normalcy and discipline on them.

She shouldn’t be here, lingering in front of this room, hand hovering over the wooden door. She should be back in her room trying to forget the night ever happened. She should just be strong, the way she had promised herself she would be.

But the empty spot in her bed next to where she sleeps is too painful. It’s a reminder of her fate. To be alone and unwanted. Always. And despite the promises she’d made to herself she’s not strong enough to endure that. Not alone anyway. 

So she’s here, hand frozen and mind both racing and empty at once. The door in front of her looms large. She yearns to knock on it despite the late hour. But she can’t. Her arm won’t work. It’s almost like there’s an invisible barrier keeping her from touching the wooden one. 

She’s growing frustrated. It shouldn’t be this hard to knock. It’s a simple movement. And she’s not afraid of the inhabitant of the room. But she is afraid. Afraid of having to say what she feels. And, if she’s being honest, she’s afraid of having to face the truth. 

On her own she can pretend not to know why she aches and hurts at the knowledge that the bed was empty when she woke. She may even be able to convince herself that she’s just angry. But if she goes through with it, if she knocks it won’t just be her anymore. She’ll have to look into those caring eyes and she won’t be able to lie to herself anymore. A part of her wants that, craves that, even as the rest of her fears it.

In the end she’s not strong enough to force herself to act. But she’s also not strong enough to endure returning to her room and dealing with this alone. She’s trapped and incapable of saving herself. All she wants to do is run. To keep moving in the desperate hope that she can outrun it all.

Even the promise she’d made to herself all those years ago isn’t enough to give her strength. She’s helpless, a weak child incapable of doing anything. 

Unshed tears sting her eyes. Of course nothing has changed. Why should it. She was the problem after all. The cursed child. Born wrong. So wrong that not even her own coven could accept her.

Even when they’d offer her a chance to make things right she’d been too weak to take it. They’d offered to fix her, to make her how nature intended. The elders had assured her it would work, that if she could simply endure she would emerge stronger and the way nature had intended. It had worked for others. Her mother and father had begged her to take the chance, to do what had to be done. But she’d been scared and weak. So she’d run.

She’d taken little with her. Just the clothes she was wearing and what she’d happened to have in the bag she’d had on her when the elders had summoned her. She’d had no plan, no thought as to how she would survive. The only things that carried her forward were shame and fear. 

So she’d found herself alone on the streets. She’d had a few dollars and knowledge of a few simple spells. Maybe if she was stronger, better she could have made do with just that. But she wasn’t. She was defective. Her funds had run out quickly enough. Even selling the few meager possessions she’d been able to salvage only forestalled the inevitable for a few days.

With the nights growing longer and her stomach aching and empty she’d become desperate. In that moment of weakness she’d abandoned whatever shred of morality she’d still had and in doing so proved the elders right.

She’d broken into a house, positive she could make it in and take what she needed without anyone realizing. She might not be good enough for her coven but she was still a witch, she could handle anything a mortal could throw at her. She didn’t need anyone. She could take care of herself. But she’d been wrong. On all counts.

The house she had chosen had looked nondescript. From the outside it had seemed no different than any other in the small cul-de-sac. The lights were off and it seemed safe enough, so she’d made her way inside. She’d underestimated how hard it would be to navigate the dark rooms so she’d summoned light to help her explore. What she had found inside had overwhelmed her. The shock of the horrors in the study combined with the stress her body had already been under had proved too much. 

She’d fainted. Her last thought was that she probably wasn’t going to get to wake up. It didn’t bother her as much as she’d have thought.

Surprisingly, she’d come to. Only she wasn’t alone. Her eyes had opened to find a man looming over her. His shadow had spilled over her and the first thing her eyes had locked on was the pudge of his belly. It spilled out over the waistline of his pants. The flab forced the shirt he was wearing to stretch to both cover his skin and remain tucked into the dark pants he wore. His breath reeked of alcohol and his face was peppered with a mix of red marks and bristly hair. When he reached for her panic set in and she’d tried to cast to protect herself. But the power wouldn’t come. She was too weak to focus and her eyes fluttered closed as the strain left her almost too tired to remain conscious.

It was pure terror that kept her from passing out again. She was helpless in the home of a man who owned strange objects made from glass, metal and, what she’d learn was, silicone. Each of the objects enshrined in the room resembled the very organ her lack of attraction to had led to her banishment. It was like some bizarre shrine to masculinity.

She’d been positive that she’d broken into the home of a pervert who would certainly harm her. In that moment a kind of dark clarity had come over her and hysterical laughter had spilled from her. She’d run from her only family to escape being forced to allow a man to violate her only to find herself at the mercy of a man who would clearly do much worse. It was too much to contain inside and so she laughed. It was bitter and desperate and nothing like laughter should sound like. 

In response he’d pushed his glasses up and given her a worried stare. When finally there was no more air in her lungs and she’d fallen silent, he’d taken her from the room and gave her food. He’d asked her what happened and anxious to buy even a few more seconds away from her eventual fate, she’d sobbed out her story.

When she’d again fallen silent, and her plate was empty, he’d grunted and told her to follow. She had. Despite the certainty of what would happen to her, she had no energy to resist. This was her fate after all.

Only, when he’d finally stopped moving and told her to walk through a door the room she’d found inside was nothing like the first she’d found. It was clean and contained none of the horrific items the other had. It was impersonally decorated but did contain everything a person would need: a nice bed, larger than the one she’d had back when she’d had a home; dressers and a closet, not that she had anything to put into it, and there was even a bookshelf containing a series of paperbacks she’d eventually come to know like the back of her hand. 

His voice had still been thick with menace and his words slurred. But it was what he’d said that had shocked her from her stupor. The room was hers as long as she needed it. Her eyes had fixated on the lock and the latch she could use to make sure it couldn’t be opened. He’d told her clean towels were in the private bathroom located in the back of the room. And then he was gone, leaving her alone with nothing stopping her from leaving. It was her chance to run and escape the house of horrors she’d found 

Only, her legs wouldn’t move and even the objects she’d seen in his study didn’t seem as bad behind the safety of a locked door. Certainly not worth leaving the first safe and warm bed she’d had in close to a month. Her nights cowering on the street and in abandoned buildings had taught her the value of security. Besides, she’d told herself, she could flee in the morning.

But he’d woken first and had been waiting when she’d tried to escape. When she’d tried to slip out through the front door she’d run straight into the delicious smell of pancakes and bacon wafting from the kitchen. It had been too much to forgo.

He’d outmaneuvered her. She was exhausted and tired and even the barest kindness had been enough to cause her to crumble. He’d clearly sensed it in her as she’d settled at the kitchen counter across from where in a steel pan bacon sizzled. He’d smiled, which made him look even less threatening than the oversized bathrobe he was wearing over a dark t-shirt and thick gray sweatpants.

Over the course of the meal, which mostly consisted of him giving her more and more food as she devoured anything he put in front of her, he’d talked about himself. His name was Kevin. The room of horror filled with phallus of every possible shape and size was a workshop of sorts. He found it helpful to be surrounded by past projects as he looked to the future. When he’d realized it didn’t make her feel any better knowing that he’d spent time creating the objects that littered the room he’d tried to put her at ease by explaining his job as an adult toy designer. He’d made it about a sentence in before realizing the problem with doing so to someone as young as she was.

As he’d stammered, blushed and put far too much effort in trying to avoid certain words and concepts it had become impossible to see him as a threat. It occurred to her that for the first time in weeks she was actually safe. Sure, he was weird, but he wasn’t going to hurt her and he seemed to accept her. At the moment that was all she’d been capable of caring about.

She’d ended up staying and living with him. The first few weeks were a bit of a learning curve. He wasn’t used to having anyone else there and she was still raw from the betrayal of her family. Several times they’d startled each other walking through the hallways at various times. She’d jumped whenever he knocked on her door. Each act of kindness, whether it was feeding her, buying her new clothes, replacing some of the possessions she’d lost or buying her books to read was met with suspicion. But eventually she grew tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop and began to accept him for what he was. Of course that was when the other shoe had dropped.

When Winter break had ended, he’d made it clear that he expected her to attend the local middle school. It was her first time attending a regular school. Her coven had homeschooled them all, preferring to focus on only the subjects that would make them useful in the future. Though homeschooling was a bit generous, mostly it had been things the mortal world didn’t care about. In terms of general knowledge, she’d been taught only the most basic of things, so that she could one day aid the coven as an adult.

School had been a shock all of its own. It was nothing like what she was used to. There was so many new people and it was chaotic and filled with energy in a way the coven never would have allowed. It had been overwhelming, a feeling that was compounded by how behind the other students she’d been. 

Over time though she’d come to like it there. Sure, some of the kids were straight up assholes. But it was nice to have friends who were willing to accept her as she was. She’d found that there were others like her. She’d even managed to find a girlfriend, though it hadn’t lasted long. Still, it had been important in helping her to understand that there was nothing wrong with her.

Looking back it’s obvious that had been his intention in forcing her to attend the local middle school. He’d wanted her to see for herself that she wasn’t the freak her coven and family claimed she was. He’d also wanted her to gain self-esteem and learning new skills helped her to do that.

As she got to know him she’d found that many of his actions served a second hidden purpose. Like when he’d offered her a job as his assistant. He hadn’t really needed help with creating his designs or his work. It was a way to make her feel like she was earning her place and the allowance he gave her. Which had been obvious at the time. What she hadn’t realized was that it also gave her a chance to confront what had happened to her and take ownership of her own life.

By learning his trade she also learned about ancillary fields, like human anatomy and sexuality. It helped her to realize that she wasn’t the broken one. Her coven had been. It also gave her a chance to broaden her horizons.

Which had worked out well. It had turned out she liked metal work and had a real talent for design esthetics. So, she’d thrown herself into the studies and, in turn, school. She’d quickly caught up with her peers and even had been making strides towards the top of the class.

The routine she’d found with him was comfortable and she was happy. Looking back it was clear she’d found something she’d never had before. A home.

While they never really discussed what she was to him, his actions made it clear. She was family. The daughter he’d never had. Which was only fair. He was the parent she’d never had.

Unlike the people who raised her and had claimed to care about her, he always made sure to show her he accepted her for who she was instead of needing her to be something she wasn’t. Not that he ever said those words. She wouldn’t have believed him if he had. It was in the little things he did every day. Like the way he’d pestered her about crushes and which girl had caught her eye. Or how the house rules reflected her desires. Like how she couldn’t have the door closed when girls were over, but it was fine with boys. It was in the way he never joked about her having a crush on a male classmate or friend. Slowly, together they had been undoing the damage she’d endured over most of her life. But it couldn’t last. Nothing good in her life ever did.

Her coven had come for her. It was her own fault. She should have kept running. But she’d bought into the lie that he told her, that she could be happy and normal. She wasn’t normal though. She was a witch and she belonged to the Coven, no matter how much she wished otherwise.

As much as she had tried to simply forget her past, in the end her past had come for her. It hadn’t been enough for her coven to simply cast her out. The mere fact that she still existed was an insult to the Great Mother. So they’d sent someone to excise her. They’d almost succeeded.

Somehow that night she’d managed to save them both. It was equal parts luck and the training with magic she’d had. In doing so she’d revealed the one secret she’d kept from him.

She’d been forced to use magic in front of him and in doing so outed herself to him. She’d been sure it would be a step too far. Sure he could tolerate his adopted daughter being a lesbian, but to ask him to accept that magic was real and that she was a witch was too much to ask of a normal human.

She’d been sure he would be horrified and throw her out or, worse, seek to exploit her. But again she’d been wrong. There had been no desperate screams for her to leave or attempts to use her for his own gain. He’d been shaken and clutched at her, but the only thing she heard in his voice was fear for her safety. He’d promised they’d work it out together. Though it had quickly become apparent he was just telling her what she needed to hear.

He hadn’t lied exactly. It just wasn’t them who came up with the solution. In fairness, they hadn’t had the chance to. When she’d awoken the next morning and gone down for breakfast, she’d found two strangers sitting at the table. One was a tall man with sandy brown hair. From the way Kevin was eyeing him she assumed he must be attractive as far as old men went. Next to the man though was the most stunning girl Penelope had ever seen.

Her eyes had fixated on the other girl immediately. Her mouth had gone dry and her heart had begun to beat faster. She’d been tempted to try and do something with her hair. But it had been too late. The other girl had already seen her. The smile that had grown across Josie’s face had sealed Penelope’s fate. She’d fallen hard. Far harder than she had any right to given the circumstances.

Embarrassingly, Kevin had noticed. He’d given her a smirk at the table and later, after she’d pulled him from the room when she’d tried to protest that she couldn’t leave him alone to go to some fancy boarding school, he’d had the utter nerve to use the cute friendly girl as ammunition. It was even more infuriating that it had worked.

She’d tried to fight, but the knowledge that she’d get to spend more time with Josie had weakened her resolve enough that she’d caved. And so she’d started at the Salvatore School for the Young and Gifted that very day.

A decision that ultimately led her here, to a wooden door at an ungodly hour and the crushing realization that nothing has changed. She’s still the same weak pathetic excuse for a witch she was those years ago.

“Penelope,” the voice is like a burst of electricity surging through her system. It paralyzes her and causes her mind to short circuit for a second. When she turns her brain is processing everything in slow motion. It would be comical if she wasn’t so terrified. To her left, walking down the hallway towards where she is standing is the girl whose absence has sent her running for this door. “Why are you at Emma’s door?”

Words fail her. Her brain isn’t moving nearly fast enough for her to form a coherent sentence. The only thing she can think of is the truth, not that she dares say it. Her eyes just fixate on the girl standing before her.

It’s no different than all those years ago when she’d first met Josie. Once again Josie is standing across from her studying her. Just like that day in her kitchen, every once of Josie’s attention is focused on Penelope. Penelope’s heart speeds up and her mouth goes dry. There’s something mesmerizing about the way Josie is looking at her. Everything about the other witch makes it clear that Penelope is her sole focus in that second. Even now, with the specter of rejection hanging over her Penelope feels a rush of warmth in her chest. She knows just how much compassion Josie is capable of. To have all of it directed at her… well she’s never had the words. Not really. It’s both amazing and deeply uncomfortable. Because she doesn’t deserve it. But she’s selfish enough to want it anyway.

It only lasts a few seconds though. And then it occurs to Penelope that she can see Josie’s arms. Which means that the other girl isn’t wearing the jacket that was missing from the closet. She doesn’t have time to wonder about its fate. The answer is just a few steps behind Josie.

Hope.

Hope is wearing the jacket. And nothing else. Penelope isn’t sure about what mix of emotions the realization causes to stir inside her. It feels like cold fire. Her throat dries and her pupils contract. Her fingers begin to twitch and it’s all she can do not to close the hand into a tight enough fist that her blunted fingernails will cut into her flesh. 

But she’s not able to hide the emotions from Josie. The other witch’s eyes dart between Penelope and Hope. When realization grips Josie it’s written on her face. The twin witch’s cheeks pale and her mouth drops slightly open. Her fingers began to move, absently striking the material of her pants. It would be cute in any other circumstance.

Here, with just the three of them standing in this hall way with every other soul asleep and Penelope on the verge of begging for help, it’s the last straw. The icy burning inside her consumes the last vestiges of restraint she has.

Her feet carry her away from Josie and Hope and the awful truth before any of them can speak. It’s better that way. Penelope knows she can’t trust her own voice. It will crack and break and the utter devastation would be so readily apparent.

No, it’s better to run and hide. And she knows just the spot.


End file.
